Jody's House For Wayward Girls: Season 2
by Kii Reyth
Summary: After a confrontation with the mysterious Men of Letters, the girls return to their home with Jody in Sioux Falls. Alex has to cope with several shocking additions to her life. Claire struggles to maintain a healthy relationship with her boyfriend, who may or may not be a witch. Sara's powers are getting out of control, and a new addition to Sioux Falls stirs up trouble.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, and welcome to the second "season" of Jody's House for Wayward Girls! For those of you who have been tagging along on this wild ride, good to see you back! For those of you who are newcomers, I ask that you please check out the first story, Jody's House for Wayward Girls - I've worked very hard on it over the past year and if you're looking for a fun, Supernatural story, I think you'll really enjoy it!**

 **Last time, we saw seventeen year old orphan Sara Evans running away from her London foster home. After discovering she had strange powers and was being stalked by powerful enemies, she (literally) ran into the small mismatched family of Jody Mills, Claire Novak, and Alex Jones. After joining the small family, Sara soon discovers she is a Cambion, a powerful half-human half-demon. Soon she is introduced to the Winchesters, Castiel, and her estranged father and half-brother. Chaos ensues as Lucifer is released from the Cage and the Darkness hunts down God.**

 **Now, after a showdown with Lucifer, teaming up with several powerful entities to save the world, and Dean Winchester's apparent death, we find Claire and Alex back in Sioux Falls, grieving, and Sara and Sam facing down a potentially deadly foe in the Bunker. Things will get messy as the girls find themselves juggling relationships, hunting, and going through senior year of high school.**

 **A longer story summary:**

 _ **After a confrontation with the mysterious British Men of Letters, the girls return to their their normal lives with Jody in Sioux Falls - only things are far from normal. Alex has to cope with several shocking, unexpected additions to her life. Claire struggles to maintain a healthy relationship with her boyfriend, who may or may not be a witch. Sara's powers are getting out of control, and a new addition to Sioux Falls who is linked to the boys past stirs up trouble. Meanwhile, Castiel, Crowley, and Gavin continue the hunt for Lucifer. Sam and Dean ask Jody for help in reintroducing Mary to the modern world. Rowena encourages Sara to continue to let her powers grow. Sara fights for the rights of someone like her and makes some shocking revelations. Stay tuned for puns and more!**_

 **While the last season took place during and in between the events of Supernatural Season 11, this one will be taking place during Supernatural Season 12.**

 **Everyone get ready! It's Season 12 of Supernatural, and Season 2 of Wayward Girls!**

* * *

At only seventeen, Sara had faced far more than anyone should ever have to.

She'd lost her only family to a demon at the age of four. She ran away from the foster homes at sixteen. In the past year alone, her life had changed so much. Her powers as a Cambion emerged. Soon after, she met her estranged father, the demon King of Hell. She'd fought Lucifer himself – and won.

And yet, seeing Sam Winchester wounded and losing blood fast on the floor of the bunker, she'd never felt more scared.

She couldn't even scream or cry out, she was in such shock. Instead, eyes wide, she took a step backwards as the woman pointing a gun at Sara's chest took one forward. Sara dared not make any sudden movements – this woman had already proved she wasn't afraid to shoot first and ask questions later.

"Months of extensive research on the Winchesters and not once was a teenage girl mentioned," the woman – Toni, she'd called herself – said. Her mouth was set in a firm frown, her face a mixture of annoyance and confusion. "However, I was told explicitly to leave no loose ends, and I haven't the time to waste – I do apologize." She leveled her weapon. "I'm afraid I'll have to take you in, as well."

"Leave her be," Sam ground out, trying to push himself up. "She's not a part of whatever this is."

"This isn't right, we don't need to fight," Sara insisted shakily, holding her hands up in surrender. "No one has to get hurt. Please put the gun down." Her eyes darted to the bookshelf Toni was standing directly in front of. One shove, one good push . . .

Toni raised her eyebrows in surprise. "English. Even more surprising. However, I'm on a very tight schedule. Now, be a good girl." She aimed her weapon, the clicking of the hammer being drawn back an ominous promise of what was to come.

Sara's fingers twitched. _Concentrate, concentrate._

For some reason, her mind drifted to a day many months ago. She stood in the backyard of Jody Mill's farmhouse. Empty Red Bull cans lined the fence. Sara was getting frustrated at being unable to move something as simple as an empty aluminum can. Her father was telling her to have patience. _"Don't ask it to fall over, darling. Tell it to. You're in command here."_

Sara's fingers twitched again. Toni was narrowing her eyes, wondering why the young girl wasn't complying – she soon lost all train of thought as an ancient, heavy bookshelf, lined with masses of thick books and artifacts, toppled over onto her. She disappeared in a pile of books and wood, a cloud of dust rising up from the rubble.

Sara hastily returned to Sam's side, dropping to her knees beside him as he leaned against the table, breathing heavily and fighting the pain. His jeans were soaked, a steady stream of blood spilled from the ripped flesh of the bullet wound. Her stomach lurched and she felt the overwhelming urge to vomit.

 _Later_ , she thought. _Concentrate on Sam._

"What do I do?" She asked desperately.

"Pressure," Sam said from between his teeth, sweat forming on his brow.

Sara nodded, quickly pulling her cardigan off. "S-sorry," she said before pressing the sweater onto the wound, pressing. There were sickening, squishy noises and Sam hissed with pain, groaning against the agony. Sara cringed.

"Y-you're losing so much blood," Sara said in horror, watching as her sweater quickly became soaked. "I need to make a tourniquet, or something . . ." she looked around desperately, her eyes settling on Sam's hips. Immediately her hands darted towards his lower abdomen.

"W-what are you doing?!" Sam demanded as she fiddled with his belt.

"I'm going to use your belt to stop the bleeding," she said, hands shaking. "I saw this on CSI once."

"Well, I can do it," Sam muttered, interfering.

Sara glared in disbelief. "Is now really the time to be modest? You are _literally_ dying!" She finally unhooked the belt, pulling it from the loops of his jeans and wrapping it around his leg above the wound. She looped it through and swallowed, looking at him. "Ready?"

He swallowed as well and nodded, and Sara pulled it as hard as she could. Sam gave a sharp cry of pain at the sudden discomfort at the tightness above the wound. Sara punctured the belt through itself, making it as tight as possible.

"You're okay," she kept repeating, more to herself than to Sam. "You're fine. You're going to be okay."

"Sara," Sam said, grabbing her wrist. His hands were ice cold, and all color had drained from his face. "She probably wasn't alone. You need to go, now. Get help."

"No," Sara said, in shock that he'd suggest leaving him. "Not without you."

"I'm not going anywhere. You need to get out of here, find Cas. Find Crowley, anyone that can help, okay?"

"O-Okay," Sara nodded, frightened as she stood. "My phone is in the Impala, I'll call an ambulance." She hesitated. "Don't die," she added, before turning and dashing towards the staircase.

She gasped, startled, as a fist connected with her face. She stumbled away, holding her throbbing cheek, to find Toni. She looked disgruntled and bruised – she must have crawled out from under the bookcase and went around through the kitchen, lying in wait.

Sara's eyes widened as a gun was brought up and pointed straight at her face. Without even meaning to, Sara yanked the gun from Toni's hands without so much as lifting a finger, flinging it across the room. Sara had no idea how she was doing all of this – it _had_ to be her adrenaline levels. Never before had her powers been so concise. Toni looked shocked and a little afraid as her eyes widened. She lunged at Sara, and the girl tried to run for it. She cried out as a hand wrapped around her ankle, pulling her down roughly. Fear crashed down over her as Toni pressed against Sara's windpipe with her arm, pushing the breath from her.

If she could just get away and make it to the Impala, she could hit speed dial and her father would be here in _seconds_. She had to save Sam, every second she struggled was another moment he lost blood. She'd already lost one friend that day, she couldn't lose another. If she could only make it to the Impala . . .

She gasped, feeling a strange, rapid feeling of claustrophobia set over her for mere seconds. Her head was spinning with pressure, and she felt like vomiting again as she closed her eyes to try and relieve some of the tension that was squeezing against her. Was Toni killing her? Strangling her to death?

Things were suddenly quiet, and she forced her eyes open, shocked to realize she was in the garage next to the Impala. Eyes wide, she glanced back at the door, several meters away and closed.

Had she just bloody _teleported?_

 _Worry about it later,_ she told herself, yanking the door to the Impala open and grabbing her cell phone clumsily. Before she could even turn it on, though, she felt an extreme sense of nausea and exhaustion crash over her. Vision blurring, she felt her eyes turn black, her body forcing every ounce of power up to the surface in an attempt to keep her upright. Her surroundings began to spin, and she fell against the cold concrete floor, her limbs suddenly so heavy and sore and totally drained of energy that she couldn't even hold herself up. Her phone went sliding away. She desperately tried to reach for it, hand shaking as she tried to lift it.

A shadow fell over her, and a black heeled boot came into view, stepping on the phone and crushing it to pieces. Sara weakly started to lift her head, catching just a glimpse of a severe looking woman holding an odd looking weapon in her hand. Sara felt the weapon pressed against her neck. With a jolt, her body seized and tensed for a moment before she sunk into unconsciousness, her last thought of Sam, and praying he'd still be alive when and if she woke.

* * *

Claire stared at the ancient grandfather clock in the living room. It had been a gift or something, she recalled, from one of Jody's relatives when she moved into this house. Some heirloom. It was kind of ugly, to be honest, but it was free furniture.

Right now, it stood as a focal point, something for Claire to look towards while her mind wandered. She was on the couch, the same place she had been since she woke up that morning. It was only nine in the morning – Alex was probably still asleep. Jody had taken the day off work, and Claire could hear her bustling around the kitchen, trying to keep busy. She was on the phone, and Claire listened to her conversation.

"I'm sure she just forgot to charge her phone after everything that . . . happened last night," she was saying. "Sam, too. They probably went straight to sleep when they got in. It was late. But still, she's usually pretty good about calling back and she hasn't. No, I'm sure she's probably just sleeping. Honestly I'm half tempted to drive to Lawrence myself and check on them but I've got two grieving teenagers in the house. Well, yeah, of course I'm upset too, but I'm not surprised. You know them as well as I do – when the world is in danger, a Winchester is gonna step up and take it all on himself. Maybe you could do with taking a page from their book, the whole nobility thing."

Stepping up. _That's one way to put it,_ Claire thought. Sacrificing yourself to save a bunch of assholes you don't even know, who don't even care about you . . . _stupid Dean. Why does he have to be dead?_

" _Lucifer?_ That's what you're doing right now? Trying to track him down?" This piqued Claire's interest, and she continued to listen in on the one side of the conversation she could hear. "He's not going to go after Sara, why would he? Him and . . . _God_ made up, right? So there's no reason to bother Sara." She listened for a moment. "Yeah, maybe you're right. But could you go by and check on them anyway? I don't know, call it a mother's intuition, but I've had this terrible feeling since last night . . . Well, we don't all have supernatural powers, you know. Okay, thanks. Tell her to give me a call when she can. Thanks, Crowley."

There was a knock on the door, and Jody came out of the kitchen, shoving her phone in her pocket and opening the door. Claire sat up, rubbing at her eyes.

"Hey, kiddo. Come on in," Jody was saying, and Gavin entered, glancing at Claire. She smiled weakly at him, and his heart squeezed as her obvious grief.

"Claire, have you heard from Sara this morning?" Jody asked as Gavin came in and sat down beside Claire.

Claire shook her head.

Jody frowned. "Well, I'm sure she's fine. I just wanted to make sure she's doing okay after . . . I'm going to make some breakfast, you hungry?"

"Sure," Claire said, knowing Jody needed to keep busy, and Gavin murmured his agreement. Jody gave a small smile and went back to the kitchen, unable to shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, you guys! I already have such a great reaction from you! Thank you so much, I'm so glad you guys like this. You seriously are the best!**

 **I'm going to try doing longer chapter from now on, but we'll see how it goes!**

 **If anyone is interested for making a cover image for this story, it would be greatly appreciated! Unfortunately making stuff like that isn't my forte, but if anyone wants to make one, go for it!**

 **Don't forget to review!**

* * *

Crowley was normally a patient man. But age wore even on him, and as days passed into years, he found himself becoming more and more anxious over things. Especially where his daughter was concerned.

He didn't often feel emotions that weren't associated with hatred, bitter anger, sometimes amusement. But where his daughter was concerned, he felt a fierce protectiveness, and reluctant love. She was a powerful little thing, but she was also Regina's daughter, and Regina was the only human he'd ever loved. And, to be quite frank, Sara had Crowley wrapped around her little finger – between her sharp wit, charming personality, and unmatched power, Crowley found her to be enjoyable company, and actually found himself caring about her – her actions, her interests, her feelings – more than once.

So, when he arrived at the bunker to find bloodstains, obvious signs of a struggle, and his daughters crushed phone, he felt more dangerous that he had in years.

Dean was alive. Crowley could smell his fresh scent in the bunker, along with Castiel, and another scent unknown to him. Perhaps he could have picked up on more, but the stench of Sam Winchester's blood overpowered everything else.

If the Moose were alive, he was very lucky, indeed.

Not that Crowley cared about him. Honestly Sam could be in a rocket ship on his way to Mars and Crowley couldn't care less. However, the oaf was responsible for Sara, and if Sam were in trouble, chances were good that she was, as well.

His phone began to ring, and Crowley glanced at the familiar number before answering, fighting to keep his voice level.

"Squirrel," he said sharply. "Not dead, I see."

"Didn't agree with me," Dean started. "Listen, I don't have time to deal with the smartass remarks – we were just at the bunker, and –"

"Yes, I know," Crowley cut him off harshly. "I'm here now. The place is absolutely _drenched_ in that idiot brother of yours' blood. That aside, I beg the question – _where is Sara?_ "

His angry, sharp tone was enough to make Dean hesitate with his answer. "I don't know."

Crowley could feel his blood almost literally boil. "You don't know?"

"I got back to the Bunker and found it looking like frickin' Katrina hit, you think I wasn't confused?" the Winchester snapped. "You gonna shup up and listen? We got back to the bunker and Cas got there soon after, said some British broad showed up and banished him 'round two this morning. We don't know what happened to Sam or Sara. We got there about seven and hacked into some traffic cams, we're on the trail now."

"You mean to tell me you've known my daughter is missing for _three hours_ and you didn't bother to call?" Crowley's voice lowered dangerously. _Death may not agree with you, Dean Winchester, but how does eternal torture sound?_

"I've been making calls trying to track them down," Dean retorted. "Don't get your panties in a bunch, I'm doing what I can. You outta go to Jody's, let them know what's up."

"And since when, exactly, did you start calling the shots?" the angry demon demanded

"Since my brother and your kid went missing!" Dean snapped. "Now stop acting like a dick and do what you can while I do my job." He paused, talking to someone in the background for a moment, before returning to the phone. "Cas is coming to meet you. He'll bring you up to speed. Try not to do anything stupid, we don't know who we're dealing with."

"Doesn't matter," Crowley replied. "They're dead." He hung up, glancing around and trying to remember the last time he was so passionate about something.

* * *

Sara felt ill.

She was quite afraid to move, as doing so might cause her to vomit. Her head was throbbing and she was aching all over. She felt groggy and tired, as though she'd been sleeping but hadn't got any rest. She desperately tried to recall what had happened to her, putting recent events in order.

Her and Castiel and Sam had gone back to the bunker. There was someone in there, though, someone who had banished Castiel and shot Sam. Sara had fought her and . . . teleported, only to be knocked unconscious by another woman.

She tried to move, but realized her arms were tightly pulled behind her, her wrists cuffed together. Even her ankles were shackled, and she glanced down at them, finding odd symbols carved into the metal. Demonic cuffs. Even if she had enough energy to use her powers, she couldn't. She wondered briefly if Sam were in a similar situation.

 _If he's alive,_ said a horrid little voice in the back of her head.

 _Of course he's alive,_ she told herself. _He's Sam. He's fine._

She struggled against the cuffs for a while, to no avail. All the while she took in her surroundings - she was in a small room, with ugly gray carpet and peeling wallpaper. There was a desk, a chair, and a plastic lamp in the room. A small window towards the ceiling, though it was mostly covered with dark blinds. There was a door across from her, but she was sure it was locked.

Nothing notable. Nothing that could really be used as a weapon. Not that it would matter – she didn't even have the energy to escape her bonds even if she could. Whatever that had been back there – teleporting, how odd – it took a lot out of her.

She could hear voices on the other side of the door, and strained to listen.

". . . sure he'll feel up to talking when he wakes up."

"I'm not so sure. He's very stubborn."

"For now. Is the other one awake yet?"

"I haven't checked in a few hours."

Keys jingled on the other side of the door, and a few locks were undone. Sara took a deep breath, trying to conserve any strength she had in case she had to fight. When the door opened, she flinched at the harsh light that flooded into the room.

The door closed again, and a voice said, "It's quite dreary in here, how about a little light?" The lamp was turned on, and Sara was able to see in the much more subtle light.

It was the woman she had fought – Toni Bevell. She wasn't unpleasant to look at in the least – she was dressed nicely, and was smiling kindly. She was, however, sporting a small bruise on her temple. Sara had a feeling maybe she'd done that.

"Hello," Toni said, pulling the chair away from the desk and taking a seat. "I'm sorry about your arrangement. But at this moment in time I'm not even entirely sure what you are, so every precaution was taken." She leaned back, folding her hands in her lap. "What's your name, then?"

"Where's Sam?" Sara asked, swallowing when she realized how hoarse her voice was.

"Mr. Winchester is fine. We've just been chatting. I assure you no harm will come to him."

Sara gave a bark of humorless laughter. "You shot him!"

Toni frowned. "He resisted. As did you. Now, come, surely you can tell me your name? No harm in that, is there?"

Sara glared, but decided to play along for now. "Sara."

"That's a pretty name. Have you got a last name, Sara?"

"No."

Toni smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I see. Sara, let be straight with you – I know you moved that bookshelf, and you pulled my gun from my hand without even touching it. And then on top of that, you vanished, reappearing in another place. Can you tell me about that?"

"Yeah, it hurt like a bitch," Sara groaned, rolling her shoulders. _That_ was the truth, after all.

Toni smiled. "We performed a few tests while you were out," she began. "You're severely allergic to holy water, did you know that? Ms. Watts says your eyes were black when she first ran into you. However salt and iron have no effect on you. Nor do exorcisms." She leaned forward, folding her hands together. "What are you?"

Sara didn't answer. Toni Bevell put on a good show. She acted very friendly and kind, but behind her eyes there was a cold, calculating woman who didn't care about Sara in the least.

"I want to see Sam," Sara said.

"I'm afraid not," Toni replied, leaning back. "If you'd be willing to answer a few questions I'd be more than happy to take you to him. But you have to help me first, Sara – answer my questions."

Sara ground her teeth together in annoyance. "What do you want?" she demanded.

"I want to know what you are, for starters," Toni said as she took a clipboard off the desk, uncapping a pen.

"I don't know," Sara replied, her obvious disdain straining her voice. "I woke up one day and realized I could move things with my mind. _Apparently_ I can teleport. Other than that, I don't know. I'm just a kid."

Toni narrowed her eyes. "Mm-hm. And your relation with the Winchesters?"

Sara pursed her lips, looking away. "He's just a guy, you know? He helped me out when I was in a bind and we became friends. That's all."

Toni raised her eyebrows. "Tell me about your parents."

Sara hesitated. "My mum is a chiropractor, and my dad is a dentist. We live in Leeds. I don't know what more there is to tell."

"What're you doing so far from Leeds, exactly?"

"Visiting relatives. My aunt Sharon lives in Lawrence, I came to spend a few weeks with her before going back to school. She's getting on in years and all my cousins are grown so I wanted to spend some time with her." She was using the exact same story she told the police when they questioned her about being homeless in New York. She couldn't tell if Toni was buying it or not, though.

"I see. And what's this?"

Toni leaned forward, picking up the charm necklace around Sara's neck. Toni gave it a tug, and it came off in her hand. She held it up in front of Sara, raising an eyebrow.

Sara swallowed. "That?" she laughed. "I don't know. I paid like eight dollars for it at a head shop in Kansas City. I thought it looked cool."

"Mm. I think that's enough for now." Toni stood, sliding the charm into her pocket. She started to leave.

"You said I could see Sam if I answered your questions!" Sara exclaimed.

"You can," Toni replied. "Once you answer my questions honestly." She left, shutting and locking the door behind her.

Sara released an angry breath of air. _Bullocks_.

* * *

Gavin glanced over at Claire, who was sitting in the passenger seat of his F350. She was staring out the window, not saying anything. She'd been unusually quiet all day, even when Jody was giving them errands, like picking up groceries and some other things around town. Of course, that was to be expected, he supposed. The man she looked up to most had just died.

He leaned forward, turning the radio on. _Paint it Black_ by the Rolling Stones crooned through the speakers. Gavin reached over, turning it up and humming along.

Claire looked at him. "I thought you didn't like the Stones."

"They're growing on me," he said nonchalantly. Claire smirked a little and Gavin smiled, feeling successful at getting her to grin. He reached over and took her hand with his free hand, lifting it and kissing the back of hers gently. "You're going to be alright, you know."

She squeezed his hand. "I know," she said, sounding unconvinced, and she continued to stare out the window.

They arrived back at the house, and started carrying groceries in. Gavin pushed the door open and headed for the kitchen, stopping in surprise when he saw his father standing in the kitchen. Claire ran into Gavin as he stopped suddenly.

"Ouch!" she complained.

"Da," Gavin frowned, moving into the kitchen and putting the bag of groceries on the counter. Jody was sitting at the table, holding her head in her hands. Alex sat with her, rubbing her back and staring off into space. Crowley looked grim, and Gavin suddenly looked felt nervous.

"What's wrong?" Claire demanded, also noticing the ominous atmosphere. Jody looked up, face tear-stained, and Claire's heart skipped a beat. If Jody was openly weeping, something was very wrong.

"Sam and Sara are missing," Alex said quietly. "Someone took them."

" _What?!"_ Claire and Gavin exclaimed.

"Who?" Claire demanded.

"What happened?" Gavin asked.

"We don't know," Crowley said, visibly annoyed and perturbed at both the situation and the bombardment of questions. "I've got all my men looking and Castiel and Dean are searching as well."

"Dean?" Claire's eyes widened.

"He's alive," Alex told her. "He called while you were gone. He's okay."

If Claire hadn't been so worried for Sara and Sam, she could have cried with happiness. _He's alive. He's okay. He's not dead._

"What the hell happened?" she demanded, going from grief-mode to protective-sister mode.

"Dean and his mother – yes, that's correct – returned to the bunker to find Sam and Sara gone, as well as some blood," Crowley continued. "Castiel assures me no one was fatally wounded."

"Who took them?" Gavin demanded.

"A woman," Crowley replied. "A human woman. We have no idea who we're facing or why." He quickly explained everything he had found at the bunker. Claire listened with a firm frown and crossed arms, gears turning in her head.

"This is my fault," Jody finally spoke. "I should have gone and checked on them last night like I wanted. I knew something was wrong. God, I was so stupid."

"Don't do that to yourself, Jody," Alex soothed her.

"We'll find them," Claire swore. "I promise."

Crowley raised his eyebrows. " _We?"_

"I'm not going to sit around and do nothing!" Claire snapped. She grabbed the Chevelle keys off the counter. "Alex, can you run tech on the road?"

"Of course," Alex frowned.

"Great, get those details from Dean and hack into every traffic cameras within a hundred mile radius, see how many matches you come up with that match the description Dean gave."

Alex nodded and ran upstairs to grab her gear.

"Jody," Claire started.

"I know," Jody sniffed, standing. "Pull it together. For Sam and Sara." She pulled on her jacket. "I'm headed for the bunker. Maybe there's something there we overlooked."

Claire nodded. "Take Gavin with you, he knows how to run the tech from the bunker. See what got caught on camera. Alex and I are going to meet up with Dean and Cas."

"I'll continue my search," Crowley added. "Call if you get anything." He disappeared, and Claire took a deep breath as she headed for the Chevelle, opening the trunk and making sure she had everything. Weapons, rock salt, iron, holy water, holy oil . . . she grabbed her favorite angel blade and shoved it down the side of her boot for easy access.

She slammed the trunk door, staring at the sinking sun as she waited for Alex.

 _Hold on, guys,_ she thought. _We're coming for you._


	3. Chapter 3

Sara didn't know what time it was, but she guessed night. It was quiet, and even kidnappers had to sleep.

She wasn't sure if what she was about to do was the right thing to do or not, but she didn't have a lot of options. Her father would surely kill her if he found out, but right now, Sara had bigger problems. She swallowed, looking down at her bare neck where the sigil warding her from angels - more importantly, one angel in particular - had been.

Yeah. This was _definitely_ crazy.

She closed her eyes, concentrating. "Lucifer," she said on a deep exhale. She took another breath. "Lucifer, if you can hear me, I'm reaching out to you. Please find me."

She opened her eyes, but there was nothing – not that she could see in dim lighting anyway. She sighed. It had been a shot in the dark, anyway.

"Looks like you're in a bit of a pinch there."

His voice startled Sara, and she looked up, catching a glimpse of a pair of red, glowing eyes.

"Lucifer," she sighed in relief, something she was sure she'd never do again. She looked him up and down, unused to the body of a middle aged man with sandy hair and a devious smirk. He was leaning against the wall casually, ankles crossed and arms crossed as well. "Nice vessel."

"What, this?" he looked down at himself. "Not a vessel. This is Nick. I was him for so long that I guess he's just an old favorite of mine. See, I'm not actually here, thanks to an ass-load of warding on this place. I'm just projecting my image into your head since you got rid of that cute little charm you were so rudely wearing."

"Listen, I don't have time to banter," she said, and Lucifer looked personally offended. "I need your help."

He grinned, looking as though he knew she'd say that. "Yeah?"

"Please, get me out of here," she pleaded.

"I told you, kiddo, I'm not even here," Lucifer was still grinning. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Sorry. No can do."

Sara's shoulders sagged. Lucifer was her only chance. And it was a bust.

"Well," he said thoughtfully, and Sara looked at him. He tapped his chin, brow furrowed as though he were in deep thought. Sara knew he was only putting on a show – he had an ulterior motive in mind. "There is _one_ way I could get in."

"Okay, do it," Sara said quickly.

"Well, ya see," he chuckled, spreading his hands. "I'd need someone to invite me inside."

"Fine, I invite you in," Sara frowned.

"Oh, no, no, no," he laughed, looking thoroughly amused. "That's not what I meant."

Sara's own brow furrowed, and she began to ask him to elaborate, when she realized what he meant. She clenched her jaw. "No."

"Come on, Sara, there's a really good chance the nice British lady in the pantsuit is going to kill you in the morning," he reminded her.

"No freaking way. I'm not an idiot."

" _You_ called _me_."

"The answer is no."

"Well," he shrugged. "I guess there's not much else I can do, then. Buh-bye."

"Wait!" Sara called. "Please, find my father, tell him where I am. Or my brother, or Castiel – anyone."

"Y'know, I would," Lucifer said, shoving his hands in his pockets. "But I'm really busy planning how I'm going to take over your daddy's kingdom. Then Heaven. Then back on down to earth. So, no can do. Bye, Sara!"

"Lucifer!"

"Call me again if you change your mind!"

He disappeared, and Sara was alone again.

* * *

"I've already told you, Winchester – we're doing everything we can. But we can't spare everyone, not while Lucifer is at large."

Camille had no idea how she got suckered into dealing with Dean Winchester. She couldn't stand the guy – and not just because he was a hunter, though that definitely didn't help. No, she didn't like Dean because he was so _pure_ – maybe not on the surface, but beneath all the alcoholism and daddy issues and bad-boy attitude, there was a man with a big heart and a list of sacrificial acts that made Camille want to spit. She remembered when she was a human, and even then, she wasn't half as good a person as Dean Winchester.

She also wasn't fond of how intimidating he was. Very few things frightened Camille – Crowley, when he was angry. The witch, Rowena. And Sam and Dean Winchester.

He towered over Camille, arms crossed and shaking his head. "That's not good enough," he started. "Lucifer can wait – this is Sam and Sara. You know how pissed Crowley is gonna be if someone hurts her?"

"Don't make this about me being scared of Crowley, you insect," she retorted coolly. "You're worried about baby brother, and that's it. Same old Winchester sob story. It's boring."

"Sara is as much a member of my family as she is yours," Dean said lowly. "She might be the heir to Hell or whatever, but she's my responsibility, and yours too. So we need to pull out all the stops here and find them."

"Unless Lucifer finds them first," the demon retorted.

Dean clenched his jaw. "You shut your mouth."

Inside the Impala, Mary Winchester fidgeted nervously as she watched the exchange. All of this was so .. . . different. Every time she thought she had a grip, it was ripped from her hands. Technology, hunting, the world in general – it was all too much.

"Who is she?" she asked hesitantly, looking at the woman who was talking to her son.

Castiel glanced out the window from the front seat. "Camille, I believe they call her. A demon."

"Why exactly are there so many demons hanging around my son?"

"It's . . . complicated," Cas said weakly.

Mary was about to press, but frowned as she saw headlights approaching. "Who's that?"

Castiel was already getting out of the car. Mary frowned – she recognized the car that was slowing to a stop. That was Bobby Singers car – she didn't know the hunter well, but she knew him well enough to recognize that Chevelle anywhere.

So why was a teenager getting out of it?

Curiosity got the better of her, and she followed Castiel.

Claire exited the Chevelle, slamming the car door and walking towards Dean, gravel crunching under her feet. As she got closer, though, she couldn't contain herself; she started sprinting towards him.

He turned towards her, almost being knocked off his feet as she propelled herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. He chuckled, holding her as she wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him into a tight hug for several long moments before pulling away.

"How about you don't do that again?" she demanded, glancing up at him.

He grinned. "No promises."

Claire grinned. "I'm glad you're alive, Hasselhoff."

"Hey, me too," he agreed.

Claire glanced at Camille. "How's it going?"

"It's not," Camille said with a glare at Dean. "I should be out searching, before Crowley becomes more agitated."

"Fine, get outta here," Dean snapped. "Just – call if you hear anything, alright?"

"Boss someone else around, Winchester," she said, tone bored, as she disappeared.

"Jeez, get a room next time," Claire raised an eyebrow at Dean.

"Shut up. Is that Alex in the car?"

"Yeah, she's hyped up on Red Bull and teching out. Figured it's best to not disturb her."

"Probably right."

Claire glanced behind Cas, to a woman who was standing awkwardly to the side. "So, is that her?"

"Uh, yeah," Dean cleared his throat, looking over his shoulder. "Come here, Mom, meet Claire."

Mary Winchester cautiously approached, as confused as she had been since being revived. Claire gave a half smile, feeling just as awkward. "Hey."

"Hi," Mary said, frowning. "Is – is that Bobby Singer's car?"

"Oh, uh, yeah," Claire nodded, glancing back at the Chevelle. "It was pretty trashed, but I fixed her up."

"Mom, you knew Bobby?" Dean raised his eyebrows in obvious surprise.

"Of course I knew Bobby, every hunter knew Bobby," Mary said, frowning. "He used to run around with Rufus Turner, running FBI scams and sitting around the Roadhouse all the time. _You_ know Bobby?"

Dean swallowed, exchanging a look with Cas, who also looked uncomfortable at the mention of their old friend and father figure. "Yeah. Yeah, we sure did."

"Not to interrupt the reminiscing, but do you guys have any leads?" Claire asked, crossing her arms. She was anything but patient.

"We might," Dean nodded. "We're about to go follow it now, should find out by morning. You guys good?"

"Aces. We're trying to track Rowena down. We could use a good tracking spell."

Dean shuddered, not wanting to deal with the witch that had become such a pain in his ass. "Good luck," he said earnestly. "Call if you get anything."

"You too."


	4. Chapter 4

Sara wasn't sure what day it was – she was sure she'd been in that damned room for at least a day and a half since she woke up, though. So far no one had come back, and she was getting worried. She'd occasionally hear voices or someone rustling around in the other room, but otherwise things were quiet.

She dared not call Lucifer back, for fear she might be tempted to do as he said. Her wrists were chaffed and raw from her pulling at them, hoping for one little surge of strength. Still, even if she regained enough strength to get out of her bonds, she was exhausted, and there was no way she'd be able to fight off both women.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself and clear her mind. Every moment she was stuck here was another moment Sam could be suffering.

She looked up, startled, as the door was unlocked. Her heart raced as the same severe looking woman who had knocked her out back at the bunker stared in at her. Sara had heard Toni call her Ms. Watts.

"Lady Antonia asked me to have a few words with you," Ms. Watts said politely, stepping inside. She set a black briefcase on the desk, flipping the lamp on.

"Lady Antonia can eat me," Sara snapped, in no mood for an interrogation. "I want to see Sam."

Ms. Watts opened the case, and Sara's heart beat faster as she withdrew a syringe. She took the cap off, walking towards Sara, who did her best to look brave.

"What's that?" she demanded, swallowing.

"I'm just taking a blood sample," Ms. Watts replied nonchalantly. "It won't hurt much, so long as you stay still."

Sara was too afraid to do anything otherwise, and she refrained from wincing as the needle pierced her skin. A moment later, Ms. Watts stepped away, holding the syringe full of Sara's blood.

"Now," the woman continued, placing the syringe in the case. "Let's talk about who you really are."

"I already said, I'm a student from Leeds," Sara retorted.

"You're a good liar," Ms. Watts replied. "Now, we have a few ideas, but nothing we can really confirm without your cooperation – which I assure you, I'll get, one way or another. So. Black eyes, an allergy to holy water . . . yet salt, iron, crosses, and a full-fledged exorcism didn't cause you to so much as flinch."

"We already went over this, I don't know how I got my powers."

"I do. Have you ever heard the word _Cambion_?"

Sara froze, shocked at the amount of knowledge these people seemed to hold. She didn't reply, her mind going a million miles a second as she tried to come up with an excuse, a retort, something.

Ms. Watts smirked. "Ah, so you have. Mother or father?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hmm." Ms. Watts returned to her case, removing another syringe. This one was filled with a clear liquid, and she turned back towards Sara. "Are you sure about that?" She asked, removing the cap.

Sara glared at her, feeling her eyes flicker. Instead of suppressing it, she allowed them to turn black, if only in a petty attempt to intimidate the woman standing in front of her. Ms. Watts narrowed her eyes.

"Screw you," Sara spat.

Ms. Watts smiled, and Sara hissed as she felt a sharp prick, and something cold being injected. At first nothing happened, and she started to make a rude comment – but then, she started to feel it. A creeping, warm sensation spreading throughout her body, gradually growing hotter and hotter to the point it brought tears to her eyes. She gasped for breath as it took full effect, causing her chest to body to contract and her limbs to tense up and shake.

She desperately tried to catch her breath, but her throat felt constricted. Her fists were clenched so tight blood began to drip from her hands where her nails dug into her skin. Whatever had been injected into her had taken full control of her body, even causing her tears to burn the skin on her face, steam rising from the wounds.

"W-what did you do?!" she coughed, throat raw. She could feel blood vessels around her eyes bursting as she suffocated slowly.

"Just a bit of holy water injected into your blood stream," Ms. Watts replied, taking a seat. "It should last about seven and half minutes. Don't worry, I only gave you a half a dose."

Sweat was starting to bead on her forehead, and having the same effect as the tears, burned into her skin. She forced herself to keep from crying out as she grew gradually hotter and damper from tears and sweat, though she wanted to scream. The constriction kept her from doing so anyway. She was being quietly tortured.

It was the longest seven and a half minutes of her life. As the pain started to dull, she could feel her mind swimming, and could hardly hold her head up.

 _I'd rather face Lucifer than go through that again,_ she told herself.

 _Was that an invitation?_ Whispered a voice in the back of her head.

She clenched her jaw harder, teeth grinding together painfully. _No_.

The door opened again, and Toni Bevell entered, looking pretty and perfect and not at all like a madwoman keeping two people chained up in an abandoned building.

"Hello, hello," she said cheerfully, looking around. "How are we doing today?"

"She's just had the first dose," Ms. Watts replied.

 _First?!_

"Father," Sara rasped, voice beyond hoarse.

Toni glanced towards her, raising an eyebrow. "What was that?"

"My father," Sara continued, desperately trying to swallow against her parched throat. "He's a demon. Can I please have some water?"

Toni nodded at Ms. Watts, who exited to room, coming back a moment later with a bottle of water. She put a straw in it, lifting it to Sara's lips. Sara drank desperately, draining half the bottle in a matter of seconds.

Toni leaned in front of her, looking sympathetic, but Sara knew better. Whoever these people were, they were monsters. She couldn't even imagine what was happening to Sam right now.

"Tell me about your father," Toni said.

"He's . . ." Sara tried to find her breath, but even talking took everything she had.

"What about him, dear?" Toni asked gently.

"He's . . . going to kill you."

Toni blinked in surprise. "I hardly think so," she said with a false smile. "In case you haven't noticed we're quite good at holding our own."

"No," Sara chuckled, closing her eyes to relieve some of the pressure in her head. "You can't hide. Not from him. Not for long."

"And who exactly is he?" Toni narrowed her eyes. "What's his name?"

Sara smirked, opening her eyes again long enough to stare into Toni's. Toni looked disgusted, and a bit horrified - unknown to Sara, instead of turning black, her eyes had turned a daunting shade of crimson.

 _"Crowley."_

Toni stood quickly, moving to exit the room.

"Give her another dose," she said coldly. "Double it."

"Yes, lady."

The smile died from Sara's lips as the second injection racked her body, leaving her with nothing but the satisfaction at shaking Toni up. All rational thoughts left her mind, though, as the dose took full effect, sending her spiraling into an eruption of agony.

* * *

Gavin leaned back from the console, rubbing a hand over his face. He was desperately in need of a shave, as his auburn stubble was coming in on his chin rapidly. He sighed, eyes watering from staring at the traffic cams all around the surrounding counties for so long.

He glanced towards the door as he heard footsteps approaching. Claire entered, holding a steaming mug in her hands.

"Hey," she said, approaching him. "Brought you some coffee. Figured you could use a break."

"I can – thank you," he said gratefully, accepting the mug and sipping at it.

Two days Sara and Sam had been missing, and it was starting to take its looked like Gavin felt – dark circles from lack of sleep under her eyes, hair messily thrown in a bun, she looked as exhausted as the others.

Gavin was unsure how she still managed to look so beautiful.

"Where is everyone?" Gavin asked, stretching and trying to hide the fact that he'd just been staring.

"Alex and Jody went to check out some abandoned buildings in the surrounding areas," Claire replied, pushing some loose hair behind her ear. "Dean and Cas are upstairs. I think Dean's mom went to bed."

"It's weird, isn't it? Having her here?" Gavin asked quietly.

Claire's eyes widened. "Oh my God, _so_ weird. Like I feel really bad for her. She's completely lost."

"I get it," Gavin nodded. "When I first came here I thought I was dead. Things were so foreign . . . sometimes I still have trouble figuring things out."

"Sometimes I forget how far from home you are," Claire said quietly.

"Me too," he admitted, standing. He smiled weakly, laying his hands on her shoulders. "But I have a new home. And people worth sticking around for. Sara, Da . . . you."

Claire smiled too, standing on her toes to give him a quick kiss. He brushed her hair back as they found comfort in each other, unable to forget their worries but maybe able to pause them for just a moment.

"Oh. I – I'm sorry. I didn't mean to . . ."

Claire pulled away from Gavin, finding a startled Mary Winchester standing in the doorway. Claire turned bright red, and Gavin took a step away, clearing his throat and not making eye contact.

"Dean, um," Mary cleared her throat. "Dean thinks he found something. A farmhouse, in Missouri. Castiel is there now."


	5. Chapter 5

It had been eight hundred and forty three minutes and fifteen seconds since Ms. Watts left. Sara found that the easiest thing you could do while you were in pain was the keep time. It kept your mind busy and occasionally distracted you from the fact that your insides were on fire.

She wasn't sure how many times she'd been injected with holy water – twelve? Thirteen? She couldn't remember – but the more doses she received, the longer it took for the effects to wear off. The pain spread throughout her body was just now started to ebb away slowly. She'd never hurt so much in her life, and the solitude didn't help.

Even Lucifer wouldn't answer her now.

With every creak of the old house, Sara's heart would begin to pound as she imagined Ms. Watts returning. Every question she had been asked – Where is Crowley? Where is his main base of operations? Which influential people does he have under his thumb? – Sara had not known the answer to, but that wasn't enough for Lady Antonia Bevel. She obviously recognized Crowley's name, which is what Sara had been counting on at first as an intimidation tactic. But if anything, it had only made Toni more aggressive.

Sara's hair fell in curtains around her face, drenched with sweat along with the rest of her body. She shivered, cold from the dried perspiration, and thought of the warmth of Jody's living room. She could see everything so perfect – Alex curled up in the old, overstuffed armchair, laptop balanced on the armrest and her cat on her lap. Claire stretched out on the sofa, flipping through the channels on the TV. Jody would be sitting in the love seat with her legs crossed, flipping through a book. Sara would be on the floor near the fire, leaning against the sofa and watching her little family with a smile. Maybe her father would stop by later, or her brother, or the boys with Castiel . . .

She shook her head. _Stay conscious,_ she told herself. _You've got to stay alert._

Eight hundred and forty six minutes.

The only light in the room was what little sunlight streamed in through the small window. It was grimy and mostly covered by blinds, but she could just barely see out from the bottom. So when a shadow fell over it, her heart started to beat faster.

Someone was outside.

She watched quietly, unsure if they were friend or foe, but when she caught a glimpse of some familiar, scuffed shoes and the bottom inch of an old trench coat, she could have cried for joy.

"Cas," she tried to call, her hoarse voice barely audible. She struggled against the cuffs, trying to make some noise. "Cas!" She watched, devastated, as he kept moving.

But he was there. Which meant he must have some idea where _they_ were.

She flinched as sudden footsteps approached the door and it was shoved open, bathing Sara in harsh light. She was relieved, though not by much, to find that it was Toni instead of Ms. Watts.

 _Good_ , she thought. _I hope something horrible happened to her._

Toni immediately unlocked Sara's shackled ankles, yanking her to stand up.

"I know my friends are here," Sara tried to sound brave through her gravelly voice. "They're coming for us."

"No one is coming through that warding," Toni retorted, pulling her out of the room and down towards some stairs Sara guessed led to the cellar. There was an almost desperate, wild look in Toni's eyes, and Sara wondered if something had happened.

She pushed open the door to the cellar, giving Sara a push down the stairs and slamming the door as she entered. Sara almost cried with relief when she saw Sam, bloodied and chained to a chair, but alive. His reaction was very different; his eyes widened with fear as he realized what was happening.

"No," he said, sitting up and struggling. "You said you didn't hurt her."

"We asked a few questions," Toni retorted. "Time's running out, Sam. We can do this the easy way . . ." She picked up a knife from the tray, holding it to Sara's throat. "Or the hard way."

"Go to hell," Sam spat.

"I thought you might say that," Toni said, pressing the knife into Sara's skin, the teeth bringing small beads of blood to the surface. "I assure you, Sam, I have no problem killing her. Demons have no place in our world."

Everyone went quiet, though, as a creaking thud could be heard from upstairs.

Someone was trying to get in.

Toni glanced over her shoulder at the door, then at Sara and Sam. With an annoyed grunt she shoved Sara forward onto the ground, pulling a small pistol from her own waistband and pulling the hammer back as she slowly crept up the stairs.

Sara rolled onto her back, stifling a groan and sitting up.

"Sara," Sam breathed, and she glanced at him. She gave a weak smile.

"I thought . . . they said you got away. I had no idea." He looked her up and down, noticing her gaunt appearance and fragile state, and looked disturbed and more than a little angry. "Have they been _torturing_ you?"

"Holy water," she croaked. "Please don't watch me vomit." She turned suddenly, retching what little was left in her stomach in the corner of the room. After a moment she sat up, breathing heavily. She looked Sam over, her stomach continuing to roll as she noticed his state. "Have you been stabbed?" she glanced at the wound.

"Yeah," he ground his teeth, more worried about her state than his own. "Among other things. I'm going to get you out of here, I promise."

"Cas . . ." she coughed, swallowing some air and trying to clear her throat. "Cas is here. He can't get in. It's warded."

"He'll find a way. Don't worry, we'll get out of here soon." He tried to offer a reassuring smile, but Sara knew he was worried.

She moved awkwardly, sitting into a crouching position and bringing her cuffed arms under her feet and up in front of her. She winced at the position change after her shoulders had been pulled back for so long, but ground her teeth and dealt with the pain as she examined the intricate designs in the cuffs.

"If I could get these off," she started. "I might be able to find a way out, or at least defend myself."

"There's a nail sticking out of that wall," Sam nodded to the wall to their left. "If you can scratch through the symbols you might be able to break them. Sara," he continued as she shakily stood, stumbling towards the nail. "What happened at the bunker? I thought you made it out."

Sara swallowed as she went to work on scratching through the symbols, attempting to break their hold on her. "I almost did," she swallowed. Her lips were so dry she could feel blood beading on them between the cracks, but she continued. "Toni was there waiting for me, and we fought, and . . . I teleported. To the garage. But it took up everything I had. I would have passed out even if that horrible Watts woman hadn't zapped me."

"Teleported?" Sam sounded both surprised and impressed.

"Yeah. I didn't even mean to do it. I just kept thinking about how desperate I was to get out and find help and I just . . . moved." Her arms grew sore, but she had already broken to first symbol, moving on to the second one. "When I woke up I was here, tied to a chair. They started out quite nice but then they started shooting me up with holy water, wanting to know about me."

"What did you tell them?"

Sara clenched her jaw as she broke the second symbol, moving on to the third. "I don't know exactly," she admitted. "I was . . . suffering. I told them Crowley is my father."

"That's probably what kept you alive," Sam mused. "Any other demon and they would have ganked you. If anything, these guys are informed."

"She did seem a bit put off," Sara admitted. She paused, giving her arms a break. "Who exactly are they?"

"British Men of Letters. Yeah, I know," he said when she gave him an incredulous look over her shoulder. "I'm not really sure what's happening, either."

"Well whoever they are, they're not very friendly," Sara continued, beginning to scrape at the cuffs again, ignoring the burning she felt as they chaffed her wrists. "I was so worried for you, but I couldn't escape. I . . . I even contacted Lucifer."

"Lucifer?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "He's alive?"

"He's vessel-hopping," Sara continued. "I asked him to help me. To find my father or get help."

"And he didn't?"

Sara shook her head. "Not unless I agreed to letting him use me as a vessel."

"What?! But, him and God made up! I thought he was on our side . . ." he shook his head. "But I shouldn't be surprised. Now that Amara is gone, what's to keep him from going back to being problematic?" He hesitated. "You're _not_ Lucifer, though, right?"

"Would I be wearing these bloody cuffs if I were?!"

"Right, right. Sorry."

Sara huffed as she finally broke the final symbol. With all her remaining strength, she yanked her wrists apart, and the chain between the cuffs ripped like paper. She sighed in relief as she rolled her shoulders. Then she rushed behind Sam, shakily trying to break his chains as well.

"Sara, listen to me," he said, glancing over her shoulder. "That woman is going to be back any second. You need to save all your strength. You said you teleported before?"

Sara nodded, heart racing. She could hear footsteps upstairs, growing closer.

"I need you to do it again," Sam said quickly. "Nothing can get in through the warding but maybe you can get out."

"I'm not even sure how I did it the first time," Sara whispered in a panic as the footsteps grew closer. "I couldn't even stand after doing it last time. I don't – I don't know what will happen."

"I need you to trust me," Sam said. "For both of us. Get out and find help. Call for Cas, call for your father. Get far away from here and _then_ send help. Make sure you're safe before you do anything, got it?"

"Sam . . ." she whispered, frightened. Her heart was racing, and she felt the pressure of tears building behind her eyes. If she didn't do it properly there would be no escape for either one of them.

The footsteps were on the stairs, keys clanking as they plugged into the lock.

"Sara, do it," Sam told her in a harsh whisper. "Go. _Go!_ "

Sara stifled a frightened sob, grasping his hand quickly. He squeezed, and she shut her eyes, imagining someplace else, anywhere else, d _ear god let it work let it work please let it work._

She gasped at the foreign, claustrophobic feeling of dark, heavy movement, but a moment later she heard birds chirping and could smell freshly cut grass. She opened her eyes, blinded by the sun high in the sky, and stumbled forward a bit, hearing gravel crunch under her feet.

"Sara?" She could hear someone calling her name but couldn't place it. She couldn't tell the direction it was coming from or whose voice it was. It called out for her again, but she already could feel herself falling towards the ground.

She felt someone catch her, but her vision was too blurred to see who exactly. Someone held her gently, pulling her against them and keeping her from hitting the hard ground. She squinted up at their face, unable to make out details but catching a glimpse of blonde curls colored golden in the sunlight, and a kind face with shining eyes.

Sara took a sharp intake of breath, mind disoriented as her surroundings grew gradually dimmer. She lifted her hand, feeling a gentle hand take hers.

"Mum?" Sara breathed.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean hadn't realized just how stubborn his mother was, he thought as they stood outside of the farmhouse. He insisted she stay with Castiel while he himself go have a closer look, and for a moment his mother gave him that exact ' _who the hell do you think you are?'_ look John used to give him.

He shook his head in annoyance, starting towards the farmhouse.

"Dean."

He stopped at Castiel's sharp, surprised tone. Frowning, Dean looked in the direction Castiel was staring, wide eyed. Dean's eyes followed his line of sight and widened as well.

"Sara," he muttered, moving towards her. He called her name again, but she didn't seem to hear him as she swayed.

Mary beat them there, catching the girl just as her knees gave out. She lowered her to the ground, holding Sara close to her, and as Dean approached he realized just how Sara looked. Wrists chaffed, a thin line of blood smeared across her throat, and absolutely drenched in sweat, she didn't even look alive, and for a moment Dean was worried she wasn't until he noticed her shallow breathing.

She was obviously delirious, staring up at Mary as though she'd seen a ghost. She raised a shaky hand, and Mary took it.

"Mum?" Sara murmured, fading in and out of consciousness.

"Jesus, what did they do to her?" Dean wondered, laying his hand over her head and feeling the fever that had captured her body.

"She's just a baby," Mary said in a horrified whisper.

"Her entire body is poisoned with holy water," Castiel reported.

"Am I dead?" Sara asked quietly. She turned her head, glancing towards Dean. She blinked in surprise. "Dean. I _am_ dead."

"No, no you're not, kid," Dean promised. "You're okay, you're gonna be okay. Sara, is Sam in there?"

"Basement," she murmured. "Hurry."

Dean nodded and stood, taking off at a sprint towards the farmhouse.

"We should move her to the car," Castiel said, leaning down and taking her from Mary. Mary nodded mutely, following after the angel as he carried Sara towards the Impala, laying her in the backseat. He laid his hand over her forehead, frowning at her condition. "The amount of holy water in her system could kill her if we don't do something. I need to contact Crowley immediately, he may know how to fix this."

"What is she?" Mary asked quietly as Castiel stood.

Castiel glanced at her. "A Cambion."

"A Cambion? They're myths," Mary argued, glancing down and having no idea how this poor child could be anything demonic. "There hasn't been one reported in hundreds of years."

"There have been two since you died," Castiel replied. "The first one, Jesse, was a young boy. From what I understand he was killed by the angels. And Sara . . ."

"She wanted her mother," Mary continued quietly. "She thought I was her . . ."

"Her mother is dead."

Mary felt her heart squeeze, remembering her own mother with a sharp pain in her chest. This poor kid had just been held captive and tortured, and didn't even have a mother to go home too? Only a demon father?

"However, I should contact her foster mother, as well," Castiel continued, standing, and Mary felt relieved. "Excuse me."

He stepped away, taking that odd phone-thing out of his pocket. Mary glanced back at Sara, whose breathing was shallow, but it was there.

How often had her own children had to go through this? Is this the life she left behind for them? Miserably, she wondered if she had seen all this from heaven. Had she known? Had she been watching?

Sara, meanwhile, was trapped in her own mind. She could hear the muffled voices of Castiel and a woman, but couldn't see. All her senses seemed dull, a throbbing pain ever-present as she tried to let herself fall into full unconsciousness.

 _So you're gonna let them die?_ A familiar, aggravating voice asked. Lucifer was in her head.

 _I'm dead_ , she retorted.

 _Dean says you're not dead,_ Lucifer reminded her smugly.

 _But_ Dean _is dead_ , she argued. _Get out of my brain. Let me die in peace and quiet._

 _Rule number one, Sara,_ Lucifer said, his voice growing increasingly louder. _Winchesters don't stay dead. And you're not dead either. Get up and fight._

 _I'm tired._

 _So?_

 _So I can't._

 _I never took you for a quitter. Fine, let them die. It'll be your fault, though. Even if they come back from the dead again and again, it'll always be your fault for letting them get killed this time. You ready to deal with that? I've seen your thoughts, every single one of 'em – you'll go crazy._

 _What do you care?_ Sara screamed.

 _Oh, I don't care about the Hardy Boys,_ Lucifer replied. _I hope they suffer. They annoy me. But I'm curious to see what'll happen when you unlock your full potential._

 _What's_ that _supposed to mean?_

"Wake up and find out," he said, a now it was as though he were standing directly next to her. "Wake up!"

His loud shout shocked her, and her eyes flew open. With a gasp she shot forward, clutching her chest and desperately pulling for breath. A hot surge of energy had just crashed over her – still exhausted and bruised and bloody, but she could feel her strength slowly returning to her.

Has Lucifer just given her a pep talk?

She suddenly realized she was in the back seat of the Impala. She looked confused, frowning, and her eyes landed on Mary. She hesitated.

"Hello," she said cautiously. She started to sit up farther, but Mary stopped her, pressing her back down gently.

"Careful. You're still burning up," the frightened Mary said. "Don't overexert yourself."

Sara hesitated. "Thanks . . . who are you?"

 _Oh, right,_ Mary thought. "Mary. Mary Winchester."

Sara suddenly realized she'd seen this woman before – in an ancient, worn photograph handed to her by Sam. She forced herself up, looking Mary up and down with wide eyes. "You . . . but you're dead."

"Didn't agree with me," Mary said with a small smile.

"Well, congrats. On the whole not being dead thing, I mean." Sara's eyes widened as she scrambled up. "Sam. Oh my God."

"Dean went after him a few minutes ago," Mary tried to soothe her.

"Dean . . . I saw him. He's alive." When Mary nodded, Sara swallowed and pushed herself out of the car. She felt exhausted, and probably too weak to push herself, but she'd managed to get a little of her energy back.

"Maybe take it easy," Mary suggested, worry evident in her kind face. Sara realized she did look similar to her own mother - blonde curls, a kind face - but they were definitely different. Regina had round, amber eyes, while Mary's were slimmer and blue. Regina also had long hair her whole life, and Mary's was rather short.

Sara realized she was staring, and continued.

"I heal fast. How long have they been in there?" Sara asked nervously, glancing at the farmhouse.

"Too long," Mary said, staring at the house as well. She stood. "I'm going in."

"I'm going, too," Sara agreed.

"No, you're not," Castiel said as he joined them.

"Sam and Dean are still in there with that monster!" Sara argued, eyes wide. "We can't leave them."

"She's right," Mary agreed.

"Sara, Crowley is on his way. You need to wait for him, and rest," Castiel insisted. "And I can't let you go, either," he glanced at Mary.

She narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean, _let me?_ Those are my boys in there. Just try and stop me."

"I'll get in and destroy the warding," Sara said quickly. "I'm strong enough for that. Mary will have my back."

Castiel hesitated. "I don't like it."

"Me either but I'm not leaving them behind," Sara continued.

 _She doesn't act very demonic,_ Mary thought. "We'll let you in as soon as we are able," she promised.

Castiel frowned. "I'll stay right by the door. If anything goes wrong, call for me."

Sara nodded, feeling her clothes all over. "They took my blade."

"You can take mine." Castiel withdrew the angel sword, which Mary admired briefly as Cas handed it to Sara. She clasped it and slid it into her coat pocket, nodding.

Mary led the way towards the door, crouching and staying hidden under the windows. Sara followed her lead, and they reached the front door. Mary cursed quietly at the locked door. "I think there's a lock pick in the car," she began in a whisper.

Sara frowned at the lock, and reached out, grasping the door handle in her hand. It one fluid movement she tore it from the door and tossed it behind her. The door swung open.

Mary raised her eyebrows in surprise. "That works."

She stood, leveling her gun in front of her as she entered the farmhouse. Sara followed, clutching the blade and using it to scrape away any warding she saw. They continued through the house, stepping quietly. Sara tapped Mary on the shoulder and pointed down, indicating that they should head to the basement.

Mary led the way, slowing when she heard voices. The door leading to the cellar was unlocked, and she looked at Sara.

"Find the rest of the warding," she whispered. "I'll deal with this."

Sara nodded. "Good luck."

She busied herself going through the house, scratching at the warding and symbols on the walls, looking under carpets, and any other nooks and crannies.

Until she heard a gunshot.

She wasted no time in getting to the cellar. She stopped on the stairs, catching sight of the others; Sam was still chained to the chair, Dean was holding a smoking gun, Toni was holding her hands up in concentration – Mary Winchester was choking to death on a spell. Dean was ordering Toni to stop the spell but the woman refused.

Sara suddenly felt overwhelmed with anger. For days, this dreadful, _terrible_ woman in front of her had chained her and Sam up, tortured them beyond reason, and was now prepared to kill the boy's mother in front of them. Her rage flared up as she remembered how quickly she had disregarded Sara, allowing her to be tormented without a second thought. Sam's body was broken and exhausted, and this woman – this thing – had the audacity to consider _Sara_ the monster?

She didn't deserve mercy.

Sara tilted her head, descending from the steps as she felt that angry force inside her overflow and take over. She slowly clenched her fist, and could feel Toni's actual heart in her grip as she squeezed.

Toni stopped mid-sentence, one hand flying to her throat, the other grasping her chest as she gasped for air, eyes wide. Mary was released from the spell and took deep breathes, regaining her balance. Sam and Dean watched with shock and confusion as a small trickle of blood formed in Toni's mouth, dribbling down her chin. Her face was slowly losing color.

"Sara," Dean said in shock when he caught sight of her.

"Sara, _don't_ ," Sam said, trying to keep his voice as level as possible, though he was obviously afraid. "Don't do this."

"She deserves it," Sara growled shakily.

"You don't. If you kill her, you'll never forgive yourself. It'll haunt you forever."

Sara felt hot tears streaming down her face, steam rising from her skin as the holy water in her system burned into her, reminding her once again of what Toni had done. She could feel her eyes slowly turn red. She continued to squeeze on her heart, and a gurgle of blood flooded from Toni's mouth as she stared at Sara with pleading eyes.

"Don't be the thing she thinks you are," Sam continued, his voice low and reassuring. "If you do this, there's no coming back from it."

"I can't stop it now," she ground out, feeling her own fist clenching on its own. Toni's eyes were starting to roll into the back of her head and she fell to her knees.

"Yes, you can. You can control it," Sam promised. "You're stronger than it is. You can stop."

Sara glanced at him, then at Dean, who was holding a frightened looking Mary. She glanced at Toni, who was slowly, painfully dying in Sara's grip. Sara looked back at Sam, who gave her a reassuring nod.

"Let go," he told her.

She swallowed, releasing her hand and slowly stretching out. The power tethered between Sara and Toni was tense and, for a moment, refusing to break, until Sara took a deep breath.

 _Let go_ , she told herself. _Now_.

The curse was shattered, and Toni gasped for breath as color flooded back into her face. Dean took the chance and punched her square in the face, knocking her out.

Sara fell back against the wall, breathing heavily as the power evaporated from her body, leaving her exhausted and guilt ridden. She stared off into space, coming to terms with what she had almost done as Dean liberated Sam. Sara looked up as he approached her, pushing herself off the wall and collapsing against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, letting her sob into his shirt. He held her gently, trying desperately not to let her see how scared of her he'd just been.


	7. Chapter 7

Sara sat on the trunk of the Impala, staring off into space as Dean finished wrapping some bandages around her wrists. She had stopped crying, allowing the boys to escort her outside after another British Men of Letters member showed up to apprehend Toni. Toni had glared at Sara as the woman was put into a car and taken away.

Sara felt partly ashamed, and partly regretful that she didn't finish the job.

Now, Sara let Dean clean the small cut on her throat, and he dug around in his first aid bag, pulling out two Band-Aids and holding them up.

"Regular or Hello Kitty?" he asked with a straight face.

Sara gave a weak smile and rolled her eyes. Dean nodded, pocketing one of the bandages. "You're right, we'll save the Hello Kitties for Sam."

"Dean," Sara said quietly as he finished patching her up. "What happened?"

"Short version? Everything worked out. For once," Dean shrugged, leaning against the car for a moment. "Amara and God made up and they're both gone. Don't know where, or if they'll be back, but no one had to die." He glanced at his mother, who was getting reacquainted with Sam. Dean's eyes softened as he watched her, as though his whole world were standing in front of him. "Yeah. Everything worked out."

Sara smiled softly, reaching out and squeezing his hand. Dean glanced at her for a moment before pulling her into a soft hug.

"You girls mean a lot to us," he mumbled.

"I know. We love you, too."

"Yeah, you better." He pulled away, giving her good shoulder a gentle squeeze before going to join his mother, Sam, and Cas.

Sara was thrilled for the boys, and a little envious. Mary Winchester had showed her kindness the moment they'd met. She'd held her as she fell. Sara wondered if Mary and her own mother would like each other. She was thinking yes.

She heard Sam approached from behind. He reached into the backseat of the Impala, grabbing his flannel and draping it over Sara's shoulders. She gave him a look of thanks and slid her arms into the way too big shirt, warming up a bit but still shivering. Sam leaned against the Impala, staring off into space.

"I almost killed her," Sara said quietly without looking at him. Her tone was monotone, giving away no regret or fear.

"But you didn't," Sam replied.

"I wanted to," Sara continued, feeling oddly calm. "I really, really wanted to. I wanted to watch her die, Sam."

Sam took a deep breath, not seeming surprised. He shoved his hands in his pockets, nodding. He finally looked at her. "But you didn't."

She looked at him. "No. I didn't."

"Why didn't you do it?"

"Because you told me not to."

"No. Why didn't you do it, Sara?"

She looked away again. "I couldn't."

"That's all that matters," he promised. "You're not a monster, Sara. You've got something dark in you. Hell, we all do. But you were able to control it."

"Yes." She blinked, shuddering from a mixture of self-loathing and cold. "This time." She swallowed. "Sam . . ." she started, wondering if she should tell him about how she'd seemingly unlocked some sort of deeper, angrier power inside, quite possibly thanks to Lucifer.

The sound of tires on gravel interrupted them as Jody's ancient truck made its way towards them. She threw it into park and practically flew from the truck, leaving the door ajar and sprinting towards them.

Sara slid off the car, bracing herself as Jody captured her and pulled Sara to her, sobbing. Sara felt herself tearing up again as well, and squeezed her eyes shut, holding Jody tightly as her foster mother cried and stroked her hair.

"Baby, are you alright?" Jody sniffed, unable to pull herself away.

"I'm okay," Sara replied, soaking in the comfort of her pseudo mother, swallowing the lump in her throat. Jody pulled away, examining Sara, and at the sight of her burned skin, infected wounds, and gaunt appearance, fell into a mess of tears all over again.

As the rumble of Gavin's F350 interrupted them, Jody forced herself to move away as Claire joined them, grabbing Sara by the shoulders and slamming her into a hug.

"Don't ever do that again!" she hissed.

"Yes, it was completely intentional," Sara winced. Alex pushed her way in, and the three girls stood there, embracing for several long moments.

"You're hot," Alex said, feeling Sara's head. "They hurt you."

"I'm okay," Sara insisted.

"Where are they?" Claire demanded. " _I'll_ hurt _them_."

"Gone," Sara promised. "All gone."

"Lucky for them," Gavin interrupted, and Sara smiled as he too embraced her, practically lifting her off her feet. He kissed her temple, taking a deep breath. "You're a bloody nuisance, Sara. You'll turn me gray before my time."

"Guys, I'm fine," Sara insisted, smiling at her little family. "Really. Just very tired." She hesitated, glancing towards Jody - who was distracted talking to the boys and Mary - and lowered her voice. "And thirsty. Please tell me you've got –?"

"Way ahead of you," Claire said, glancing around before sneakily removing a stainless steel flask from inside her jacket. Sara took it and uncapped it, taking a long pull. She involuntary shuddered at the pungent, stinging taste of whiskey, but immediately felt much warmer. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, glancing behind her friends and catching sight of a black-clad figure. Claire glanced back, too, and stepped out of the way while taking the flask back.

"Go get 'im, before he comes over here and gets all sullen and locks you in a tower for the rest of your life," she told her sister.

Sara grinned and rolled her eyes, stepping around them and walking towards her father. He watched her with cool eyes as she approached, standing a few feet away. They looked at each other for a few moments, and Sara was sure he could sense the leftover power that radiated from her. He didn't seem to care, though. His eyes went from the light burns on her face to the cut on her neck, to her bandaged wrists. He looked dangerous and rather vehement, and Sara swallowed.

Finally, he reached forward and gripped her shoulders, pulling her to him. Sara immediately wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his chest as he held her. He rested his chin on her head, stroking her hair as she held onto him. For the first time she felt truly and completely comforted by his presence, and felt only her father, not a demon, not a king, just a concerned father who feared for his daughter. She couldn't decide on rather she should laugh or cry, so she did neither, and just stood there for several long peaceful moments.

Crowley stepped back, examining her. He reached out and lifted her chin, laid his hand above her forehead. His eyes were narrowed and once again the dangerous demon was back.

"They poisoned you?" he asked, eerily calm.

Swallowing, Sara nodded.

"Interrogated you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are you in pain?"

Sara gingerly rubbed her arm. "Not really," she said. "Not like I was. It's subsiding."

"With the help of Claire's little friend, no doubt. You absolutely reek of holy water. How much did they give you?"

She shrugged, looking away.

"Sara."

"Several injections. I don't know. Some of it I wasn't conscious for."

"And where are the perpetrators now?" He kept his voice low, but Sara had the feeling if she wasn't there, he'd be yelling and quite possibly snapping the necks of anything that looked at him wrong.

Still, Sara nearly shuddered at his cold tone. She knew what he wanted, what he was planning. She'd nearly done it herself.

"Gone."

He narrowed his eyes. "Gone, _where?"_

"Dean killed one," Sara swallowed. "The other one . . ." she glanced away guiltily, unsure how her father would react to her tale.

He seemed to understand, though, and pressed on. "Am I to assume you were responsible for taking care of the other one?"

"No," Sara said, looking back to him. "I . . . I almost did. I couldn't stop myself, Dad. I had her heart in my hand and I almost crushed it without a second thought. Without remorse."

"But you didn't."

"I didn't. I controlled it. Sam helped."

"Did he?" Crowley shifted his attention to where Sam and the others were watching from a distance.

"Don't be angry," she pleaded, laying her hand on his shoulder. He forced his glance back to her. "Please. I don't want to kill anyone. I don't want to be a monster like the thing the killed mum."

"Or a monster like me," Crowley said bluntly.

"You're not a monster," Sara said fiercely. "I don't care what you've done. I don't care who you are. I care that you're my father. That I love you." She swallowed her anger. "And you love me."

His face was still stony. They stared each other down for several long moments before Crowley sighed and closed his eyes.

"Yes," he said in defeat. "I do."

Sara smiled slightly and hugged him again. He kissed her forehead.

"Dad?"

"Yes, darling?"

"I'm _starving_."

He chuckled, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as they walked towards the other.

"Squirrel," Crowley called, and Dean glared over at him. "Can't you these children are wasting away to nothing? Surely you must know someplace in this town that serves something edible?"

Dean glanced at Sam, who chuckled and gave a nod. Dean glanced back at them, grinning. "I know just the place."


	8. Chapter 8

The odd ensemble of teenagers, demons, hunters, and an angel were the only ones left in the Biggerson's restaurant late that night. At first the staff had protested at the group coming in right before closing, but Crowley had persuaded them to stay open a while longer with a rather hefty wad of cash. Now, as the group finished their food, the wait staff kept to the kitchen, counting their cash and letting the little crowd have free rein of the restaurant.

"Take this," Crowley told Sara as she finished the last of her fries. He handed her a small, leather pouch. She frowned, opening it to find some odd looking herbs and dried berries. She glanced at her father.

"A gift, from your grandmother," he said begrudgingly. "Couldn't be bothered to come out of hiding to be here herself, but I stopped by and persuaded her to help on my way here. Those will keep your fever down and get the holy water out of your system faster. They taste bloody awful, but they'll be bearable if you put them in some tea."

Sara nodded gratefully, putting the pouch in her pocket. "Thanks."

Crowley glanced at her as she sipped her soda. She was enjoying the atmosphere of the restaurant – even though Jody kept casting nervous looks at Sara, the sheriff was enjoying listening to Sam, Dean, and Mary catch up. The boys were recounting some of their lighter, happier stories to their mother – with the occasional comment or even a joke or two from Castiel – and Mary smiled happily. Claire was laughing at the stories, fully immersed in the Winchester Tales. Gavin and Alex were intently looking at Alex's tablet as they programmed it with some new software.

If Sara had a personal heaven waiting for her one day, she had a feeling it looked a lot like this.

"There's something different, isn't there?" Crowley asked nonchalantly. He picked a fry up from Sara's plate, but wrinkled his nose in distaste at the amount of salt on it and put it back.

Sara pushed some hair behind her ear. "What do you mean?"

"You've become stronger, that much is obvious. You were able to teleport twice and you almost killed a woman without so much as blinking," her father continued, and Sara inwardly winced. "So I'm a bit curious. What happened?"

Everyone quieted down a bit, looking towards Sara as they sobered up, ready to hear her out and support her if needed. Sara felt very nervous and turned pink.

"I'm – not really sure," she admitted. "At the bunker, I was afraid. Easily more afraid than I've ever been. I think – I think I was just so desperate that something in me took over. And it never left after that." She stirred the ice in her drink with her straw. "But after I woke up in the farmhouse, I was panicked. I thought – I was afraid if I didn't do something, we'd die. I felt very angry and frightened and when that _awful_ woman began to give me the holy water, it just made me even _more_ angry and frightened. But after I escaped and ran into Dean, I passed out and I wasn't going to wake up. I just sort of . . . gave up."

"What changed?" Dean frowned, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"I, well . . . Lucifer spoke to me," she admitted. "And he just kept _prodding_ and _pushing_ me, and that was sort of the final straw. When I woke up I had even more power. But it feels different, it feels darker and cold . . ." she shook her head. "I have no idea what happened."

"How did Lucifer even know where to find you?" Dean wondered.

Sara turned an even brighter shade of pink. "I – I told him where I was," she admitted. "I reached out to him and asked him to help, but he wasn't able to get past the warding." Okay, so it was only half the truth, but she thought maybe she'd keep Lucifer trying to talk her into becoming his vessel could stay between her and Sam. It wasn't important. She glanced at Sam, and he gave her a look that said he understood, but that they would definitely be talking later. "He's no longer on our side, that's for sure," Sara continued. "He wants Heaven, Hell, and Earth. I think he's pouting."

"Indeed he is," Crowley agreed, sipping his coffee. "I haven't had so many dead demons on my hands since the bloody apocalypse."

"We can deal with Lucifer later," Jody said firmly. "What's important is that everyone is together again, and safe."

"Agreed. However, still curious . . ." He turned back to Sara, lifting her chin gently and frowning. "Let me see your eyes, darling."

She frowned, not knowing what he meant at first, and then realizing. Concentrating on keeping her powers in check as she allowed her eyes to shift from human to demon.

Sam frowned, leaning forward. Jody said, "Oh!" in surprise, and Dean looked surprised and said, "Well that's somethin'."

"What is it?" Sara frowned, glancing around at her friends, who looked equally surprised. Alex silently reached into her backpack, digging around for a moment before producing a compact mirror. She handed it to Sara, who frowned and opened it.

She herself hadn't realized her eyes had turned from black to red. She squeaked in surprise and almost dropped the mirror, losing concentration and allowing her eyes to return to normal.

"How did that happen?" Gavin frowned.

"Her powers have grown, so has she," Crowley said, looking amused. "Such is the way with demons. Congratulations, darling. You're a crossroads demon now."

"C'mon, what does that even mean?" Claire rolled her eyes. Sara was grateful for her foster sister – Claire was always good at making light of awkward situations.

"It's means her powers have grown in strength. She's able to teleport, for example, though she's not very good at it," Castiel frowned.

Sara snorted. "Thanks, Cas."

"For what?"

"It also means she can make deals, should she choose to do so," Crowley said proudly, as though Sara had gotten all A's on a progress report instead of being able to permanently damn people.

"No thanks," Sara said quickly, and Crowley chuckled.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want," he promised. "Just keep it in mind. Ah, here we are," he said, standing as Camille and Roland entered the restaurant. Roland had a rather large box in his hand, wrapped in shining silver paper with a big red bow.

"What's this?" Sara frowned as Roland set the box in front of her.

"A present," Crowley replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I've realized that I can't always be around to protect you – and seeing as these two are obviously incompetent," he said with a glare at the Winchesters. Dean rolled his eyes and mocked the demon behind his as Crowley turned back to Sara. "I decided to give you a little something to make sure you stay safe."

Sara smiled, reaching down to lift the lid of the box. "Dad, while I appreciate the sentiment, I don't need something to – _ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod!"_ She squealed, startling everyone as she reached into the box. Sam and Dean frowned, exchanging nervous glances. Their expressions changed to a mixture of shock, fear, and disbelief when they saw what Sara pulled out of the box.

Pitch black and squirming excitedly, yipping with high pitched yelps, was a pit bull-like creature. It looked a lot like a normal pit bull terrier puppy, but Sam and Dean knew better. It was much more muscular and massive than a regular puppy, and its eyes were an eerie shade of dark red. Its teeth were already sharper than any regular puppy's, and Sam swore he could see chunks of meat in the dog's teeth.

"You got her a hellhound?!" Dean demanded.

Crowley was smiling fondly as his daughter fawned over the creature, holding it close and stroking it while talking to it softly. "Ah, bless. Isn't he beautiful? One of Juliet's pups. She's the best hound I've got, since Sam killed mine," he continued with an annoyed glare at the Winchester.

Sara gasped. "You killed a dog?" she scolded Sam, fondling the hell-puppy's ears.

"I killed a _hellhound!"_ Sam argued incredulously. "Crowley, are you insane? Do you really think this is an even remotely good idea?"

"I'd like to know that, too!" Dean agreed, eyes watching the hound. He shuddered – he didn't like dogs, but he especially didn't like _those_ dogs.

"Of course it's a good idea," Crowley replied. "My daughter is a target, you morons. She needs something that'll be able to keep her safe. I picked that one specially myself, he was the largest and most aggressive of the litter."

" _I_ think he's perfect," Sara said, raising the hound to look it in the eyes. It licked her nose and she hugged it close.

"Give it, I wanna hold it," Claire said, reaching for it.

"Claire!" Dean exclaimed.

"What?" she shrugged as Sara gently handed her the puppy. "He's cute."

Even Alex had to agree, nodding and petting the dog.

"You're okay with this?" Dean demanded of Jody.

"Jody gave me permission," Crowley said smugly.

"I gave you permission to get her a dog, not a hellhound," Jody retorted. She looked at the puppy, and her eyes softened. "Still . . . he is kinda cute," she admitted, and Claire handed him to her.

"I can't believe this is actually happening," Dean said faintly.

"It may not be such a bad idea," Castiel admitted begrudgingly. "Hellhounds are notoriously loyal to their owners and fiercely protective. And as the only existing Cambion, Sara _is_ put at constant risk . . ."

"Why does it look so . . . dog-like?" Sam continued to watch the puppy carefully.

"Don't be daft, Moose, they're not always invisible. Usually only when attacking. They've got DNA similar to shapeshifters, actually, and can become more . . . acceptable at will." He looked at Sara. "He likes his food raw. He's been eating pedophiles but I think some grocery store steaks will satisfy him. He's all yours to train and raise."

Sara jumped from her seat, wrapping her arms around her father. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love him!"

Crowley was pleased by her reaction, and watched as Sara retook her puppy, petting him and kissing his head as he chewed on the tablecloth, his stub of a tail wagging. "He'll need a name."

"Maybe Godzilla?" Dean muttered.

"Or Terminator," Sam mumbled back and Dean chuckled.

"I like Fergus," Claire said innocently, and Gavin choked on his drink, face red as he coughed and laughed hysterically, Jody pounding on his back.

"Absolutely not," Crowley rolled his eyes.

"Da," Gavin coughed, face red and grinning. He pointed at the puppy. "If you think for two seconds I'm not calling that dog Fergus, I've got some bad news for you."

"It is kinda cute," Sara admitted guiltily.

Sam and Dean were exchanging smug smirks, while Jody and Mary looked rather confused. Behind Crowley's back, Camille was covering her small grin with her hand, and Roland was bent over, shoulders shaking in silent laughter.

Crowley closed his eyes and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Oh, for the love of – _fine_. But don't you _dare_ tell your grandmother."

Sara smiled brightly, scratching the puppy behind the ears. He yipped happily. "Welcome to the family, little Fergus," she grinned.

The puppy yipped again, licking her chin happily.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi guys! We've got a plot twist comin'! And this also marks the beginning of what I hope will be longer chapters! I can't wait to see your reactions to this ;) Don't forget to review!**

 **Two Months Later**

The bell rang, signaling the end of seventh period, and kids flooded into the hallway. Chatter filled the halls of Sioux Falls High School. Everyone was chattering excitedly about the upcoming homecoming game and dance. Football players tossed a ball back and forth over the crowd, earning half-hearted scoldings from the teachers.

Sara gathered the books from her desk, exiting the classroom and squeezing into the hallway. Some people called out to her and she'd smile and wave as she headed for her locker, which was towards the end of the school with the other seniors lockers.

Claire was already waiting for her by her locker. Sometimes Sara still wasn't used to Claire putting effort into her appearance – but ever since she and Gavin had got together and she entered her senior year of high school, she radiated much more confidence. Even wearing a holy pair of ripped jeans, black combat boots, and a dark purple leather jacket, with her hair messily thrown into a ponytail that showed off her piercings, Claire gave off the perfect cross between badass and chic.

Of course, Sara had also changed things up a bit. Her hair was growing out again and beginning to curl into wild ringlets not unlike her grandmothers. She had chosen a much more subtle look than Claire, opting to go with her favorite green polo, a pair of khakis, and some oxfords. Still, she didn't think she looked too bad, though she still worried sometimes.

She may be half demon, but she was still also a seventeen year old girl.

Claire snapped her gum, glancing up from her phone when she saw Sara approaching. "How was calc?" she asked.

"As harrowing as ever," Sara sighed, opening her locker and putting her books inside of it before withdrawing a few more. "History?"

"I made a paper football and almost made it over Mr. Braxton's shiny bald head."

Sara grinned but rolled her eyes, shutting her locker and leaning against it.

"You got a free period?" Claire asked. "I gotta go to the library and work on this book report if you want to come."

"I'll catch up, I have a student council meeting," Sara said, shaking her head.

Claire grinned. "Oh, right, I forgot you're a politician now. Getting ready for the big shebang?"

"I really don't understand why Americans have so many dances," Sara agreed. "But it seems pretty important to everyone, so I'll do what I can."

"Rumor is you're gonna be homecoming queen," Claire winked.

Sara blushed bright pink. "Stop that, don't tease me."

"I'm not. Everyone loves you. That's what you get for being a cute British exchange student with a go-getter attitude." Claire glanced at her phone. "Dean says he killed Hitler. Not really sure how to respond to that."

As if on cue, Sara's phone buzzed, and she glanced down at it.

 **One new message from Dean:**

 _I KILLED FREAKING HITLER!_

Sara grinned amused, and quickly texted back, _Congratulations_?

"Speaking of work," Claire said, putting her phone away and crossing her arms. "You heard anything from Rowena?"

"No," Sara shook her head, holding her books to her chest and heaving a sigh. "Though I'm not sure what I expected – she sent Lucifer to the bottom of the bloody ocean. He's going to be pissed when he gets back topside."

"Keeps him outta our hair," Claire shrugged.

"I suppose," Sara admitted begrudgingly. She brightened, though, when she remembered something. "Oh, I forgot! Gavin gets back into town today, doesn't he?"

"Yeah," Claire nodded, picking at a loose string on her jacket. "He needs to do some work on his truck so I figured we'd head over to Singers. Not that Jody's too happy about it. She thinks I'm still too young to be going out with Gavin," she rolled her eyes.

"You did just turn eighteen," Sara reminded her. "And he _is_ eight years older than you."

"Technically he's like 326 years older," Claire retorted, and Sara rolled her eyes again.

"Whatever. If you want to date my brother, go right on ahead. But just FYI, men in our family go bald early. Dad told me so."

"Shut up," Claire snorted.

"Hey," Alex said breathlessly as she joined them. She looked very pretty as well, in a grey sweater dress and tights with a pair of converse that belonged to Claire. She pushed some long, dark hair behind her ear, frowning. "Did you guys get some weird text from Dean about Hitler?"

"That's it, I'm calling him," Claire said, pushing herself off the lockers and pulling her phone out of her pocket. "I'll catch you guys later." They could hear her as she trailed off down the hall – "Hey Geezer, what's goin' on? C'mon, no you didn't," – and the girls smiled as they watched her.

"Free period?" Alex asked Sara as she opened her own locker.

"Student council," Sara replied.

"Ugh, have fun." She caught sight of someone over Sara's shoulder and grinned. "Well, look at the time. I'd better get to class . . ."

Sara glanced behind her and grinned, rolling her eyes. Scott Copeland was making his way towards them, smiling and waving. He joined the girls, leaning against the locker.

"Hey, Sara," he said. "Alex."

"Hi, Scott," Alex smiled. "I was actually just leaving – I'll see you after school, Sara!"

"Bye," Sara called as Alex disappeared down the hall, winking at Sara behind Scott's back.

Scott was several inches taller than Sara, with a muscular build. He had dark blonde hair, currently pushed off his face. His eyes were a brilliant blue, and his smile was absolutely swoon-worthy. He was senior class president, as well as captain of the football and track teams. He already had all the ivy leagues set on him, though it certainly didn't go to his head – Scott was as kind as they came, nice to everyone and easily the most popular kid in school. Every girl had a crush on him, but for whatever reason, he only had eyes for one girl.

"So," Scott started, trying to look casual. "You ready for this student council meeting?" As class president, Scott resided over all SC meetings and played a big part in any sort of school activities, from fundraisers to dances.

"I think so," Sara nodded. "I made up a schedule for the dance committee volunteers, as well as the float decorators and clean-up crew, I just have to make some copies before the meeting. I also made sure the payment to the DJ and photographer went through, I have to take the receipts to the office, so I may be a few minutes late to the meeting."

"You'll put me out of a job, Evans," Scott grinned, and Sara grinned back.

"Well, I know how hard it must be for you, what with the stress from the big game and all the girls vying for your attention," she teased. "I'd watch out for that Amanda Clarke – I swear I saw her slip a love potion into your protein shake."

"Good to know," Scott laughed. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Hey, so look, I was wondering . . . would you . . . do you wanna do something this evening? We could go get some ice cream or see a movie or something . . ."

Sara smiled sympathetically, blushing. "Scott," she started.

"It's cool," he said quickly. "I know you're busy, with your family and stuff. And it's totally cool. I just – I think you're really great, and even if you don't want to go on like, you know, a date, we could still hang out, you know? If you want."

Sara blushed even harder. "Scott, that's so nice," she started again. "But I actually have plans with Claire and Alex this evening. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, hey, no problem," Scott said, trying to play it cool. "That's great. I, uh, I'd better get to the meeting, make sure everyone's there. I'll, uh, see you there." He hesitated, before pushing himself off the lockers and walking away, slightly dejected looking.

Sara bit her lip, stifling a smile. "Scott," she called.

He turned quickly, and Sara grinned.

"I'm free tomorrow night," she continued.

Scott's face brightened. "Great! I mean – yeah, cool. That sounds cool. Okay."

"Okay," Sara laughed.

"Okay," Scott said, also turning a bit pink. "So I'll – uh – yeah. I'll see you in a little while."

Sara waved as he backed away, bumping into someone and apologizing quickly, before he jogged towards the locker room, a spring in his step.

Sara smiled and shook her head, hugging her books to her chest and biting her lip for a moment, heart aflutter, before hurrying to the library to make some copies, and then making a beeline for the office. She rounded the corner in a rush, and slammed into someone. She squeaked in surprise at the impact as her copies flew everywhere.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, leaning down to pick them up. "I really should have been looking where I was going."

The boy she had bumped into leaned down to help pick up the papers, and for a moment Sara was stunned.

He had to be one of the most handsome boys she'd ever seen in her life, and somehow eerily familiar. He was tall and lean, well-structured to say the least. He had a sort of rugged attractiveness to him, wearing dark jeans, heavy boots, and a well-worn bomber jacket. It was his face, though, that Sara was transfixed on. He had a strong jawline, and alluring dark green eyes. He had a very light dusting of freckles that you could just hardly see unless you were really looking, and Sara realized how close she was. She leaned back a bit, suddenly very self-conscious.

The boy picked up her copies, glancing at one. He smirked, raising his eyebrows. "Homecoming committee?" he read, laughter evident in his voice, which was surprisingly deep and also familiar though Sara couldn't figure out how. However, she bristled slightly at his mocking tone.

"So?" she demanded, snatching the copies back and standing up, dusting herself off.

"Yeah, you look like the homecoming committee type," he continued, looking her up and down with a smirk.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she challenged, feeling offended for some reason. Why should she care what he thinks?!

"Nothin', nothin', but I mean. Look at you," he continued to grin that infuriating little smirk. "You've got "homecoming princess" written all over you. Wait, let me guess the theme – black tie affair?"

Sara's nostrils flared and she huffed with anger, partly because she still felt offended, but mostly because he was right.

"Watch where you're going next time," she snapped, pushing past him towards the office.

He turned and watched after her with a grin. " _You_ ran into _me_!"

The nerve! Sara was practically steaming. Here she was working her arse off to make sure everyone had a good time and things went smoothly, and then some guy with beautiful eyes who smelled amazing and looked like a model got to insult her? The nerve!

Sara stormed towards the office, trying to push him from her mind. She paused, though, as she entered the office. The secretary, Mrs. Wilkins, was talking to a pretty, dark haired woman who was leaning on the counter. The woman looked exasperated as she spoke.

". . . really he's not a bad kid," she was saying. "He's had some problems with schools in the past but he's _not_ a bad kid. Look – he's actually really smart, he's just hard to motivate. But this is a new start, he just needs a chance."

"I'm afraid he'll be on probation until we can assess him," the secretary said apologetically. "After the trouble with the other schools, it was a little difficult to accept his enrollment. But I'm sure he'll be alright, ma'am. This is a great school." Mrs. Wilkins brightened when she saw Sara. "Here's one of our best students now," she beamed, and Sara blushed.

"Here are those receipts for the dance," Sara said, handing them to Mrs. Wilkins. Mrs. Wilkins turned Sara towards the woman. "Sara is new herself, she's only been here since about halfway through last year, though she was gone for a while. She's an excellent student, very involved. And her foster mother happens to be the Sheriff. She's a very good girl, indeed."

Sara was puzzled, but smiled anyway, not wanting to be rude.

The dark haired woman raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"I'm sure she'd be happy to show your son around!" Mrs. Wilkins continued. "Would that be alright, Sara?"

"Oh," Sara said, surprised. "Yeah, sure. No problem."

"Great!" Mrs. Wilkins looked relieved – it was a job she didn't have to do now, after all. "Sara, why don't you come here to the office in the morning and we can get you two set up?"

"Sure," Sara repeated, smiling.

The other woman looked like she might cry. "Thank you so much," she said with a sigh of relief. "I know he's a little different, but really he is sweet. Just don't take anything he says to heart, he just has a hard time coming out of his shell."

"It's really no problem," Sara insisted. "How bad could he be?"

The office door opened behind Sara, and the woman looked relieved. "There you are. Where have you been?"

"Just checking out the place," he said, and Sara's eyes widened a little at his voice. _No. No way. Come on. Seriously?_ How had she not put two and two together?

"This is Sara Evans," Mrs. Wilkins said, turning Sara around. Yep. There he was, in all his gorgeous, cocky glory. "She's going to show you around tomorrow morning."

"Yeah?" He looked thoroughly amused. "Sounds like fun." He looked her up and down again, still grinning. "Loads of it."

"Stop being rude," his mother hissed.

"Sure, sure." He stepped forward, offering his hand. Sara reluctantly took it, and he squeezed gently as he shook it. "Nice to meet you, Sara Evans. I'm Ben Braeden."


	10. Chapter 10

Alex tried not to be jealous, but damn it, she couldn't help it.

She had lied to Claire, Gavin, and Sara, saying she was tired and wanted to call it a night early. Really, it just made her sad to see Claire and Gavin together, and hear Sara excitedly talk about her date with Scott. Alex knew she was being unfair – of course she was happy for her sisters – but it made her feel an overwhelming sense of loneliness.

She'd kept herself together since Kevin had moved on. But the truth is, he was her best friend – she'd met him even before Claire, and he was the first person to show her that it was okay to be close to people – or, well, ghosts. Whatever.

She drove away from Singers Salvage, where the girls and Gavin had been working on Gavin's truck. They'd finished hours ago, and it was dark now – they were all sitting on the tailgate, drinking sodas and laughing, but Alex felt down.

She didn't really intend on going home – she needed to clear her head. Instead, she drove Jody's old truck around the outskirts of Sioux Falls, listening to some rock station and letting the cool night air blow her hair around.

Her thoughts wandered from her friends to her father. She'd wanted to go see him recently – she'd even packed a bag and gotten in the car – but had chickened out at the last moment. He had a new family now that her mother was dead. A wife, a couple of step kids. Even a baby. And there was nothing wrong with that. It was good that he had moved on. Yet still, Alex thought of him often, and wondered how he'd react to his daughter – missing and assumed dead for over a decade – showing up at his front door.

She frowned, pulled from her thoughts as the radio suddenly turned into intense, loud static. She frowned, glancing at the radio, and tried to change the channel only to find the dial turning on its own.

"Oh, shit," she started to mutter, wondering if she had a gun in the backseat. Ghost, demon, or angel? She wondered. There was crack of thunder, a blinding white flash, and Alex swerved on the road. Heart racing, she glanced back up at the road as the light died, gasping and slamming the breaks as someone stumbled out in front of her. They bounced off the front of the truck, and Alex was frozen for a moment, eyes wide.

She threw the truck into park and flew from the truck, running towards the person she'd hit.

"Oh, shit," she repeated. "Shit, shit, _shit_ , please don't be dead, please don't be – dead."

She was stunned, and her eyes went wider. The man she'd hit was groaning, sitting up and rubbing his head, where a trickle of blood was streaming from under his black hair. Alex was completely frozen now, unable to speak, to move, as the man looked toward her, squinting.

"Alex?" he asked, holding his hand up to block the headlights from streaming into his eyes.

Thunder crashed overhead, and a high pitched ringing sound died down around them. A few raindrops fell from the sky, but Alex didn't notice. She was too preoccupied with the person in front of her, the person she'd just been thinking about, the person who had been dead two minutes ago.

Alex finally found her breath, swallowing. " _Kevin?_ "

The high pitched ringing was back, and getting gradually louder; Alex covered her ears as it became overwhelming, her vision blurring as everything was once again engulfed in a white light. She could feel her head swimming and closed her eyes, trying to keep her senses together.

After a moment, she opened one eye, then another; she was no longer on the road outside of Sioux Falls, but in a white room. She slowly removed her hands from her ears, looking around in confusion.

"Hello, Alex."

She spun around, prepared to fight. Instead, though, she blinked in surprise at the man standing in front of her – someone she'd expected to never see again.

"Chuck," she breathed, looking him up and down. He looked the same – unruly, curly hair and messy beard, jeans and a Van Halen t-shirt, old converse. He was smiling, hands shoved in his pockets. He looked a little sheepish.

"Sorry to startle you like that," he said. "I couldn't speak directly to you, though, without rupturing your eardrums. So I brought you here."

"And here is . . .?" Alex raised her eyebrows, looking around. The room was completely empty – no windows, no doors, no furniture. Just white walls and white floor.

"Technically your body is still back on earth," Chuck continued. "But I borrowed your soul. We need to talk."

"Um . . . okay." She hugged her arms against herself, feeling awkward. "So . . . what's up?"

He brightened. "Oh, right. I kinda just disappeared. Well, things are going good – Amara and I have been working some things out, revisiting some things, sharing some creations – oh, oh you meant about the whole, bringing you here thing. Right." He cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. "Well, I – I was thinking about what you said."

Alex raised her eyebrows. "About what?" she frowned.

"Back in the Bunker, when you told me . . . told me I wasn't sorry enough," he continued, gradually growing more embarrassed.

"Oh," Alex said. "Right. Look, I didn't mean to offend you or anything."

"No, no, Alex, I didn't bring you here to apologize to me," Chuck said quickly. "I needed to hear it. And, going back, looking at some of the things I've done . . . some of the things I've let happen . . . I realized, you were right. I should be sorry. For a lot of things. There's a lot of things I can't make up for but . . . well, there is one."

 _Kevin_ , Alex thought, heart skipping a beat. _It was God. He brought him back._ _Just like Amara did for Mary._

"You're . . . you're bringing Kevin back?" Alex asked, too tense to move.

"What happened to him was never supposed to happen," Chuck repeated. "And I have to ensure that what could potentially happen to you won't happen, either. I've already talked with Kevin, and he agreed with me. Some things – family, friends, love . . . some things are better than Heaven."

Alex swallowed back tears. "Chuck . . ."

He smiled. "Big things are coming, Alex," he said. "Give my regards to everyone." He pressed two fingers against her forehead, and Alex closed her eyes, allowing herself to be engulfed by darkness.

It was only for a moment, though. Soon, she could feel cool droplets on her skin, and someone calling her name. Her eyelids fluttered, a mild headache thumping in the back of her skull.

"Alex? Can you hear me?"

She opened her eyes, seeing Kevin's face clearly for the first time. His hair was soaked and he was still bleeding a little, but he looked more worried than hurt. Alex realized she was on the ground, and Kevin was holding her, trying to shake her awake.

"Kev," she blinked.

"I think you passed out," he said, glancing her over.

"I hit you with my truck."

"I mean I kinda jumped out in front of it, so . . ."

Alex threw her arms around his neck, and he wrapped his arms around her, too. Alex was crying, but thankfully it was hard to tell in the rain. She realized with a shock that this was the first time the two of them had really, truly touched, and she squeezed him closer, never wanting to let go.

"I could sit here like this forever," he said after a few long, blissful moments. "But we might want to get out of the middle of the road."

Alex gave a cross between a laugh and a sob, pulling away. She gently laid her hand on his head, and he winced.

"Forgot what pain felt like," he admitted.

"We're only about ten minutes from Jody's," Alex said as they stood, still grasping each others arms. "Can you wait that long?"

He nodded, and they got in the truck. Alex was still in a state of shock, and drove carefully, knuckles white on the steering wheel. _He's here. He's alive and he's here. With me._

"Did, uh, did Chuck . . .?" Kevin started.

"Yeah, he told me," Alex said quickly. She hesitated. "Kev, you didn't – you didn't have to leave heaven."

"My mom is here," he replied. "My friends. You. Heaven was boring. I wanted to be back on earth."

"Okay," Alex said. She certainly wasn't going to argue with him.

"Oh, crap," Kevin said. "Mom."

"We can call her, if you want." Alex dug her phone out of her pocket, handing it to him. Kevin hesitated for just a moment, before dialing and holding the phone up to his ear. He waited while it rang, then swallowed. "Mom?"

He waited a moment, and smiled. "Yeah, mom. It's me. No, I'm – I'm back mom. I'm alive."

Alex could hear Linda Tran crying, sobbing and demanding to know where he was. Kevin informed her that he was headed to Jody's, and promised he'd wait there while she came to get him. She was in California on business, and it would be a few days for her to drive, but Alex assured them both that Jody wouldn't mind letting Kevin stay.

When they arrived at Jody's, Alex noticed Gavin's truck and the Chevelle in the parking lot – they must be back, too, she realized. She parked behind the Chevelle and led Kevin inside.

Gavin and Claire were on the couch – Gavin sitting on the end and Claire draping her legs over his, throwing popcorn at him and laughing while he tried to catch it in his mouth. Sara watched, amused, from the overstuffed chair where she was petting Fergus, who was curled up on her lap. Jody was on the loveseat, complaining about some punk kid who had spray painted male body parts on the side of the police station.

"Uh, guys?" Alex cleared her throat.

Everyone glanced at her.

"Where have you been?" Claire asked, shoving some popcorn in her mouth.

"I, uh . . ." She didn't know what to say, so she stepped to the side, letting Kevin enter the room behind her.

Fergus immediately jumped from Sara's lap, eyes glowing red. He snarled, fur standing on end.

"Down, Fergus!" Sara commanded, and the hellhound sat protectively in front of her, still growling lowly.

"What the hell is that?!" Kevin exclaimed.

"Oh, my God," Jody said, standing. Her eyes were huge as she walked towards him, taking his face in her hands, in instant mom mode as she examined the cut on his head. She'd only met him a handful of times, and as a ghost to boot, but she didn't seem to care as she looked him over. "Does your mother know you're alive?!"

"She's on her way," Kevin promised.

"Sit down," Jody commanded. "I'll get the first aid kit."

"What the hell is going on?" Claire demanded, sitting up.

"Well, uh," Alex said, looking at Kevin. He looked at her, shrugged, and went back to warily staring at Fergus. "Kevin's not dead."

Fergus stood, creeping towards Kevin. Kevin momentarily feared for his newly restored life, but the hound sniffed Kevin a few times, and licked his hand. The hounds demeanor immediately changed, and he sat, wagging his stumpy tail and panting, pushing his head against Kevin's hand and demanding to be pet. Kevin did so cautiously.

"Sorry, he's really weird," Sara apologized about her hound. Fergus yipped happily in response. She stood, joining them and taking Kevin's hand. "I'm Sara," she smiled warmly. "Alex told us a lot about you."

"Sara, huh?" Kevin looked a little suspicious. "Crowley's daughter?"

Sara's smile didn't waver, but something in her eyes said, _Oh, bugger._ "You know my dad," she acknowledged.

"We've had the run around. Does he still have my finger?"

Sara blinked, confused, before what he meant dawned on her, remembering seeing a severed pinky in her father's throne room. "Oh, my . . . I . . ." She covered her mouth with her hand, eyes wide. She hesitated for a moment before lowering her hand, faking a small smile. "Excuse me for a moment," she said, exiting the room and pulling her phone from her pocket.

"Uh-oh," Gavin chuckled, standing. "Gavin MacLeod. The other demon spawn. Before the demon part, though."

"I'm not really sure how I feel about all these other Crowley's around," Kevin said, shaking his hand. "But I'm going to go ahead and assume you're all friendly."

" _You cut off a boy's finger?!"_ They could all hear Sara shouting from the other room.

Claire winced. "She sounds like Jody when she's mad."

"Thank you," Jody said as she reentered the room, first aid kit in hand. She forced Kevin to sit – Fergus promptly jumped up beside him, declaring Kevin his new best friend – and Kevin tried to ignore the fact that what he was petting what he was pretty sure was a hellhound.

"So, is someone going to tell me what's going on here?" Jody asked as she dabbed at the cut.

Alex quickly explained what had happened, all the while truly realizing herself. She tried to contain herself, but a part of her wanted to cry and laugh hysterically. How come she could never get used to this life she was living? Demons, angels, hunters, and now her ghost best friend was alive and in her living room and –

"Alex, you're hyperventilating," Claire said, and Alex realized she was indeed wheezing for breath, clutching Gavin's arm.

"I'm fine," she swallowed. "Fine. Just . . . Just . . ."

She looked down as Kevin reached out and took her hand – would Alex ever get used to that feeling? – and offered a small smile. Alex smiled back, squeezing his hand.

"I would like to personally apologize on behalf of my father," Sara said as she reentered the room.

"You guys know what this means?" Claire asked, and everyone glanced at her.

She tossed some popcorn in her mouth. "Dean is gonna flip."


	11. Chapter 11

Sara would rather cut off her _own_ finger than deal with Ben the next morning.

At least, that's what she had thought as got dressed that morning. She chose a purple silk button up and some dark jeans, her favorite pair of ankle boots, and added an extra swipe of mascara for confidence – and for Scott, but that was a secret.

She pulled her hair into a ponytail and headed downstairs, finding her other siblings plus Kevin and Jody at the table already.

"Ready for your date?" Claire asked innocently.

"It is not a date," Sara scoffed. "I'm just showing him around, and then dumping him back at the office. I want nothing to do with him."

"C'mon, you don't even know him," Claire nudged her.

"I know I don't like him."

Fergus barked, reminding Sara it was breakfast time. She went to the fridge and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out a large, raw steak and dropping it into his food bowl. Fergus immediately began to tear into it, sharp teeth yanking the flesh into bloody strips.

"That's an . . . interesting dog," Kevin said, watching in disdain.

"Sara, I told you not to feed him in the kitchen," Jody reminded her with an exasperated sigh. "It's just disturbing."

"He gets lonely," Sara argued, sitting down at the table.

After breakfast, Claire and Sara headed out to the Chevelle; Alex stayed behind, planning to spend the day catching Kevin up while they waited for Mrs. Tran to arrive. Gavin was headed two towns over to look into a vampire case, and promised to be back that evening.

All the way to school, Sara sulked. Something about that Ben rubbed her the wrong way – maybe it was the way he looked at her, or his ego, or something, but whatever it was, she didn't like it. And now she had to spend the whole morning with him.

Sara waved goodbye to Claire and made her way to the office. Ben wasn't there yet, and Sara wasn't surprised – of _course_ he would be late.

"Hey, Sara," Scott said as he entered the office. He smiled, handing some folders to the secretary, Mrs. Wilkinson.

"Hi, Scott," Sara smiled back. Scott leaned against the counter, standing close to her, and Sara turned pink.

"What're you doing here?" Scott asked. "Don't you have English first period?"

"Yeah, but I agreed to help show a new kid around," Sara replied, trying not to sound too annoyed at the situation.

Scott grinned. "Of course you did," he laughed, shaking his head. "You're too nice for your own good, Evans."

 _If only,_ Sara thought. "Maybe I am," she grinned up at him.

He continued to smile. "So listen, about tonight – is six okay? I can pick you up at your place."

"Sure," Sara nodded, blushing even harder. "That sounds great."

"Great," Scott said enthusiastically. "Sheriff Mills won't shoot me, will she?"

Sara laughed. "Don't give her a reason to," she teased.

Scott laughed, and glanced at the clock. "I gotta get to class – I'll see you."

"Bye," Sara called, waving after him. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, begging her heart to slow down.

"Heya, Red, ready for our rendezvous?"

Sara's mood shattered at that arrogant, smirking voice, and she turned. Ben looked as good as he had yesterday, if not better, which only annoyed Sara even more.

"It's not a rendezvous, it's a _tour_ ," she replied.

"Sure," he grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Let's do that thing."

Sara rolled her eyes and led him out into the hall. Students were sparse, most already in their homerooms.

"That your boyfriend back there in the office?" Ben asked, catching up with Sara's brisk pace.

She turned pink again. "Scott is a friend," she replied.

"So you're single?"

Sara rolled her eyes. "This is the main entrance," she started, leading him down the hall. The wall was lined with glass cases holding various trophies, medals, signatures, etc. Ben looked around as he followed Sara.

"You all are really into sports, huh?" he asked, glancing at a large photo of Scott and the rest of the football team hoisting the state championship trophy in the air.

"We have some of the best teams in the nation," she replied.

"Poor assholes are gonna be in for it when they get out into the real world and realize they all peaked in high school."

Sara glared. "Some people take pride in their achievements. Follow me, please."

She led him to the auditorium, where the theater kids were practicing for the school musical. Claire was painting a pillar in the corner of the stage; when she saw Sara, she jumped off the stage and made her way towards them.

"How's it going?" Sara asked.

"The chorus kids can't sing, the theater kids can't act, and the art kids can't paint," Claire replied, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. "So pretty hilarious." She glanced at Ben. "This him?"

"Ben, this is Claire," Sara introduced them.

Ben looked her up and down, grinning. "Hey there."

"Hi." Claire glanced back at Sara, ignoring him. "Gavin texted me – he needs some help with that thing over in Hartford so he's going to pick me up after school. You can take the Chevelle home."

"Alright," Sara agreed, and Claire dug the keys out of her bag and handed them to Sara.

"Watch the paint job," Claire warned before returning to the stage. "See you, Bill."

"It's Ben!" he called, but Claire was already gone.

"You guys live together?" Ben asked Sara as they exited the auditorium and started towards the cafeteria.

"Claire is my foster sister," Sara nodded.

"Is _she_ single?"

Sara rolled her eyes again, knowing he was trying to get a rise out of her. "No. Actually, she's dating my brother."

"Your sister is dating your brother?"

"No, it's – she's dating my real brother, my half-brother. It's complicated."

"I'll say. How many siblings you got?"

"Three, I guess," Sara continued as they made their way down the hallway. "Gavin is my biological brother, and Claire and Alex are my foster siblings.

"Did you grow up in the system?"

Sara slowed, glancing at it him and raising her eyebrows. "That's a very personal thing to ask."

Ben shrugged, hands shoved in his pockets nonchalantly. "I'm a personal kinda guy."

"Never would have noticed," Sara said dryly. "But to answer your question, yes. I did. My mother died when I was young and I didn't meet my father or Gavin until about a year ago."

"That's rough," Be said, and Sara was a bit surprised by his empathy. "I grew up without a dad. Just me and mom. But I do know what it's like moving around a lot. We've been in like six different town since I was twelve."

"Why?" Sara frowned, pausing outside the stairwell.

Ben shrugged. "Mom doesn't like sitting still. She's been real nervous the past few years. We move to a new town, she works a while at gyms or yoga studios, I get kicked outta school, we move on."

"Maybe you should try not getting into trouble," Sara suggested, crossing her arms.

"What fun would that be?" He grinned. Sara raised an eyebrow and started down the stairwell.

"Besides, I get the feeling you've down some of your own running," Ben continued.

"And what makes you say that?" Sara asked, not turning to look at him. _Keep walking, Sara. Get the tour over with._

"Well, you don't see a lotta British chicks in the middle of some backwoods town, for one," Ben replied. "For two . . . I dunno. I just know the look, I guess." He grinned again. "Kinda the same way I knew you were a preppy go-getter homecoming queen when I first saw you."

Sara glared. "I am not," she retorted. "I like to keep busy, and I like to help people. There is nothing wrong with that."

"Whatever you say, Red," he said, holding his hands up in surrender.

"And _don't_ call me Red," she snapped, turning and leading him through the halls.

She took him through both floors, pointing out classrooms and other points of interest. She showed him to the senior locker bank, and was more than slightly annoyed to find his locker only three down from hers.

As they circled back towards the office, Sara paused. For a moment, she thought the ground and building around her was shaking, but quickly realized it was just her; there was a loud ringing in her ears, an angry wail piercing against her ear drums. Ben was talking – God only knows what about – but he stopped and turned, frowning when he noticed Sara lay her hand on the wall, leaning against it. She clutched her forehead, and quickly closed her eyes, afraid they'd turn as she felt a wave of power – power that wasn't her own – crash over her.

 _Stay in control,_ she told herself. _Stay calm. Wait for it to be over._

She waited for what felt like an eternity before the noise died away and she was able to see clearly again. She blinked several times – Ben was holding her shoulder, looking serious. He asked her if she was okay. Sara nodded, swallowing.

"How about some fresh air?" he asked, and again Sara nodded, reluctantly.

Ben guided her outside, sitting her down on a bench. Sara leaned forward, putting her head between her legs as she properly regained her senses. Whatever that was, it was gone, but if left her shaken and confused. She wondered briefly if . . . but no, it couldn't be. He was far away - bottom of the ocean far away - and Sara was warded against him.

"What was that all about?" Ben finally asked.

"Sorry," Sara apologized, sitting up straighter. Her face was flushed, both out of embarrassment and recovery. "Sometimes I get really bad headaches. They only last a few minutes. Sorry you had to see that."

"Uh-huh," Ben frowned, looking unconvinced. "You're okay, though?"

"Fine," Sara said with fake enthusiasm, standing. "That, uh, that was pretty much the tour." She glanced at her watch. "It's almost lunch, I have to meet Claire," she started, looking for any excuse to leave.

"Well, hey, wait a minute," Ben said, grabbing her hand as she started back towards the school. She glanced down at his hand holding hers, then back at him, half temped to flip him onto his arse and leave him sitting in the dirt.

He dropped her hand. "While we're out here, at least let me introduce you to my baby."

Sara raised her eyebrows. "I'm sorry?"

"C'mon." He started across the parking lot. Intrigued, but also wary, Sara glanced behind her before following. He led her around the corner, towards a familiar looking vehicle. Ben turned, walking backwards and spreading his arms. He grinned broadly. "Ta-da."

Sara was shocked; the car was in pristine condition, deep red and beautifully maintained. There were slight differences than the one Sara was so used to – two doors instead of four, brown leather interior, less bloodstained – but it was still beautiful.

"Ain't she beautiful?" Ben asked proudly, voicing Sara's exact thought. "Restored her myself. She's a –"

"Impala," Sara interrupted him, running a hand over the hood with a small smile. "Sixty-seven, yeah?"

"Yeah," Ben said, looking surprised. "You know classic cars?"

"A little," Sara continued to smile. "Claire knows more. This . . . this is a personal favorite of mine." She glanced at him. "It'd be better in black, though."

"You kidding? Red is hot," he argued with a wink, giving Sara's ponytail a gentle tug. She rolled her eyes and swatted his hand.

"It is a beautiful car," she admitted.

"I used to dream about these things when I was a kid," Ben agreed. "Had to buy one for myself."

Sara glanced at him, watching as he admired his car. _The similarities are striking,_ she thought. _But . . . no, you're imagining things._ She shook herself from her thoughts and pulled her phone out of her pocket as it buzzed. It was a text from Claire, reminding her it was taco day in the cafeteria. There was also a missed call from her father, but Sara was still sour about the whole cutting off Kevin's finger thing.

"How about a ride?" Ben asked, jerking her from her thoughts.

"I'm meeting Claire for lunch," Sara replied, starting back towards the school.

"Alright, how about tonight?" Ben urged, following. "You, me, a romantic ride through the countryside? I'll let you pick the music."

"Actually, I have plans with Scott tonight," Sara continued, pausing outside the school.

Ben scoffed. "What, that big dumb jock from the office?"

Sara flushed in anger. _And just when I thought we were getting along for a moment._ "Scott is a great guy!" she retorted.

"Yeah, I bet. I'm sure he's got nothin' but pure intentions."

"Oh, like you?"

"Hey, at least I'm upfront about it."

"Ugh!" Sara turned on her heel, storming into the school and trying not to shatter the windows in anger as she felt Ben Braeden's smug smirk on her back.


	12. Chapter 12

"How many are in there?"

"Maybe six?"

Claire frowned, taking the binoculars from Gavin and holding them up to her eyes. She could see two vampires through the window of the cabin, along with an unconscious couple tied to some chairs, necks bloody. Claire lowered the binoculars, handing them back to Gavin.

"Did they turn the couple?" she asked, loading her Ruger GP100 seven-shot with dead man's blood.

"They've just been feeding on them, so far as I can tell," Gavin replied. "It'd be best if we could take them all down inside."

"Agreed. Get a shot of dead man's blood into them and that oughta slow them down long enough for us to take their heads off."

"Right. I'll go in the front, make a big show out of it, and you sneak in around the back. Did you remember to dust your clothes with the saffron?"

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah." Gavin hesitated, taking Claire's hand and squeezing it tightly for a moment. "Be careful," he said, face serious.

Claire smiled, heart aflutter, and took his face in her hands. She leaned forward, pressing a quick, soft kiss against his lips before pulling away. Gavin rested his forehead against hers for a moment before they pulled apart and headed towards the cabin.

Claire never could get over the thrill of a hunt. The adrenaline pumping through her system was one of the best things in the world. Every time she ganked something was another time people were safe, kept from being food or turned or worse.

She quietly slipped through a window in the back into an empty bedroom, the saffron ashes on her clothes keeping her from being detected by the vampires. She leaned against the wall, glancing under the door. Footsteps trailed back and forth. She adjusted her grip on her revolver, heart pounding as she waited for Gavin's signal.

She heard the door break down, and two shots ring out. The vampires hissed, and Claire quietly opened the door.

It was almost too easy – focused on Gavin, the vampires didn't notice Claire behind them. She emptied three rounds into three heads, causing the vampires to fall the ground, struggling to stand as the dead man's blood leaked into their system. Gavin had shot three others, and had already decapitated one.

One of the vampire was able to stand, and rushed Claire; but it was clumsy, and she was easily able to block its attack, swinging her machete and taking its head off in one smooth, fluid movement. She started towards the other one, but it was slightly stronger. It jumped up, heavily tackling her into a table.

Claire ground her teeth as she crashed through the wooden table, a large male vampire grappling with her. She slammed it in the stomach with her foot, pushing herself away. She put her machete through its chest, pissing it off and causing it to come at her even angrier than before. Claire yanked the knife from its ribcage, slamming the blade into its throat and sawing through it, blood spraying her clothes and face as she finished the job.

She stood, eyes widening, and ducked just in time as another vampire swung a heavy looking bat at her. She slammed her foot into its leg, and shoved it away. The vampire went crashing through the window. Meanwhile, Gavin had killed another – he jumped up as the vampire came crawling back through the broken window, hissing, and began to grapple with it.

Breathing heavily, Claire stood, prepared to help Gavin. She choked though, as something grabbed the back of her shirt and yanked hard, throwing her to the ground.

"I thought you said there were six!" she shouted as the seventh, unhurt vampire yanked the machete from her hand, throwing it across the room.

"What, you've never made a mistake?!" her boyfriend yelled back as he was rushed by an eighth vampire.

Claire reached for her gun but had the air knocked out of her as she was kneed in the stomach. She was shoved to the ground, and the vampire crawled on top of her, digging its claws into her wrists and pinning them against the floor.

"Get off!" Claire snarled, kicking and pushing against the vampire. The vampire smiled in response, revealing razor sharp fangs.

"Gavin!" Claire shouted, struggling under the weight of the vampire.

The vampire dipped its head, its hot breath on Claire's exposed neck. She began to panic. _Not a vampire. I will_ not _be a chew toy for a vampire._

"A little help!" she yelled. Teeth grazed her neck.

Gavin threw the vampire he was fighting with aside. There was a wild, panicked look in his eyes; he raised his hand, and yelled out in a language Claire didn't understand. " _Occillo!_ "

There was a sickening, cracking noise, and the vampire holding Claire down lost its grip as it fell forward, dead. Claire scrambled away, checking her neck for bite marks, and thankfully finding none.

Gavin put his machete through the last vampire, and there was an eerie silence broken only by Claire and Gavin's heavy breathing. Gavin dropped his knife and fell to his knees beside Claire, checking her throat before pulling her into an embrace.

"Gavin," Claire muttered against his shoulder, and he pulled away. She was staring at him, wide-eyed. "What the hell?"

Gavin sighed, standing and helping her up. Claire kicked the vampire that had been attacking her. "What did you do?"

"I decapitated it," Gavin replied. "Technically – I shattered its entire spinal cord."

"What the _hell_?"

"We need to get these people to a hospital," Gavin avoided the question, moving to untie them. Claire helped, quietly casting glances at Gavin as they carried the unconscious couple to the truck. Gavin went back, pouring gasoline throughout the cabin and striking a match and tossing it. He got back in the truck as the cabin was engulfed in flames.

He quickly dialed 911 as he drove away. "There's a fire at the very end of Ruckers Drive," he reported anonymously, quickly hanging up.

They drove towards the hospital, quiet most of the way, until Claire finally couldn't bear it.

"So you're a witch," she started, and Gavin gave a heavy, annoyed sigh.

"Claire, don't," he started.

"I mean I saw you use what was _obviously_ magic," she continued. "And you _obviously_ knew what you were doing."

"I'm not a witch, okay?" he retorted. "When I was a kid, I realized I had some sort of natural born abilities, I guess something I inherited from Da and Rowena. I used it to learn how to make little stuff – healing bags, some minor spells. As I got older I learned more. So yes, I know a few spells. But I am not a witch."

"I've never seen you use magic," Claire said quietly.

"Because I don't," he said, exasperated. "I haven't in years."

"But why?" she frowned, glancing sideways at him. "I mean, it's way faster and cleaner than rushing in with guns and knives –"

"Nothing good ever comes of magic," Gavin continued darkly. "You continue to use it, to abuse it for a while, and it takes over everything in your life. Look at Rowena. She's obsessed. There's a reason I don't use it, and there's a reason I don't want Sara – or anyone _else_ – using it," he finished pointedly.

The finality in his tone silenced Claire. Still, as she watched him as he silently drove down the highway, she realized there was still a lot she didn't know about Gavin McLeod – and maybe a lot she didn't want to know.

* * *

"I can't believe you picked such a horrible movie!"

Scott groaned, and Sara laughed as he ran his hand over his face.

"It was supposed to be good!" he exclaimed, red faced and obviously embarrassed. "But, man – that was the worst thing since _Freddy Got Fingered_."

"I don't know what that is," Sara grinned. "And I don't want to know."

"You really don't."

The ice cream parlor was a popular spot that night – various couples, teens, and parents with young kids were there, enjoying their frozen treats. Even Tara, head cheerleader and "bonafide bitch" according to Claire, was there with her crew, tossing jealous glares toward Sara.

"Can you ever forgive me for such a terrible cinematic experience?" Scott asked.

Sara grinned, taking a bite of her ice cream. "I'll think about it."

Scott smiled, reaching across the table and taking Sara's hand. She blushed furiously.

Sara had never been on a date before, but she could honestly call this one of the best nights of her life. Scott had been polite to Jody, had paid for Sara at the movie and the ice cream parlor, and had been a perfect gentleman. He gave Sara was Jody called "butterflies."

"So, I wanted to ask you something," Scott started.

"Ask away," Sara smiled.

"It's about homecoming . . ."

"Oh," Sara frowned, brow furrowing. "Did I forget to do something? Oh, God, please tell me it's not about the decorations. I knew I should have gotten the expedited shipping –"

"No, no, Sara," Scott laughed, and Sara tilted her head. "I want to know if you'll go with me. You know, as my date."

"Oh!" _Oh_. Sara turned bright pink, trying to hide her obvious excitement. She started to answer, but stopped when she caught a glance of someone – or rather, someones – outside the window of the parlor.

Two men, well-groomed and wearing black suits. They were watching Sara. She made eye contact with them. Narrowing his eyes, one of them looked around, casually putting his hands into his pockets and revealing an angel blade inside his jacket pocket.

"Oh, crap," Sara said.

Scott frowned. "What?"

"I – I mean . . . uh, I'll be right back," Sara said, standing quickly and making her way to the back of the restaurant towards the bathroom, leaving behind a very confused Scott.

She entered the bathroom, looking around for a moment before taking her own blade from her purse and sliding it up her sleeve. She lifted the window, pulling herself out of it. She dropped onto the asphalt quietly, rolling her shoulder.

 _There are civilians everywhere,_ she thought as she pushed her hands into her jacket pockets, considering her next move. She could run – but if she did so she'd have to explain it to Scott, and the angels would track her easily anyway. Her best bet was to confront them and keep it clean.

She quietly made her way around the side of the building; the angels were now waiting under a streetlight, their backs turned to Sara as they talked quietly, debating rather or not Sara had escaped.

 _I could kill them both right now while they're not suspecting it and be done with it,_ she considered. Her stomach knotted at the thought. _No_ , she thought, appalled with herself for having such a thought. _Talk first. Fight later._

She stood casually, and glanced at the street lights. She narrowed her eyes slightly at them, and they began to flicker. The angels glanced upward at them, frowning, as the lights died out.

"Hello, boys," Sara said, and the angels quickly turned to face her. One of them dropped an angel blade out of his sleeve.

Sara's heart was racing, and she felt afraid, but didn't dare show it. _Confidence is key,_ she reminded herself.

"I don't want to fight you here," she said, also dropping the blade from her coat sleeve. "But I will if I must."

"What a noble little abomination you are," mocked the angel with the blade.

"Easy, Tabbris," said the other angel, laying his hand on his comrades shoulder. "We're not here to fight."

"That's a new one," Sara acknowledged with a scoff. She glanced from one to the other. Angels or not, she didn't trust them. She kept her blade drawn. "What can I do for you, gentlemen?"

The other angel hesitated. "It's about Lucifer," he admitted begrudgingly. "He's returned to full power."

Sara raised her eyebrows. Well. That was the last thing she'd been expecting.

Or maybe not.

"Is all this having to do with that rather angry cry and wave of power from earlier today?" she inquired.

"So you felt it," the angel confirmed. "We weren't sure . . . only the oldest or most powerful beings heard it. Angels, alphas . . ." his eyes flashed with something that may have been anger. "And you."

"You flatter me," Sara replied dryly. "I still haven't any idea what any of this has to do with me."

"There is a rumor," the angel began slowly. "That you were able to track the Hands of God."

"I wouldn't call it tracking," Sara replied with a frown. "More of an awareness of their existence."

"We believe . . . we hope . . . you may be able to do it again," he continued. "Only instead of the Hands, we'd be asking you to find Lucifer."

Sara raised her eyebrows, scoffing in laughter. "Sorry, mate," she started, lifting the charm necklace she always wore. "But I'm warded against Lucifer specifically. If I don't want him finding me, why on _earth_ would I want to find him?"

"Lucifer is going to be a problem," the angel called Tabbris said harshly. "He needs to be put down."

"And you're so afraid to look for him yourselves that you want to send me to do it." Sara shook her head. "No way in hell. You're on your own."

"Even if we could find him, we're not strong enough to take him on," the other angel said. "We believe you may be."

"Not interested," Sara replied. "Are we done?"

"You pathetic little worm," Tabbris spat, and Sara raised her eyebrows. "If Lucifer gets his way, everything will be destroyed. He's angry, and when Lucifer is angry, he gets destructive. Are you really prepared to let everyone die?"

 _Damn it._ Sara hadn't considered this – nor had she expected the angels to play this card with her.

"I'll think about it," she finally replied.

"That's all we ask," the other angel said. "Please – if you decide to help us, you need only pray."

They disappeared, and Sara sighed.

 _Congrats, Sara, you just channeled your inner Crowley_ , she told herself. _Try not to cut off any fingers._

She returned to the bathroom, replacing her blade in her bag and quickly returning to the table, where Scott was scrolling through his phone.

"Sorry," Sara said breathlessly. "I just, ah, saw some friends of mine and went to say hello."

Scott raised his eyebrows. "In the bathroom?"

"Uh – yes. Listen, it's getting late . . ."

"Oh, yeah, sure," Scott said, standing. "I'll take you home."

They exited the ice cream parlor, getting into Scott's Mustang. Sara stared out the window, considering what the angels had told her. She'd thought she was done with Lucifer – yet here he was, back and bigger and badder than ever. And the angels, of all people, wanted Sara's help. _Ha_. Her Dad would get a kick out of that one.

 _I need to talk to Sam and Dean,_ she thought.

Scott turned into the gravel road leading towards Jody's house, and as he approached, his eyes widened as he caught sight of Gavin's truck.

"Whoa," he said. "That is _sweet_."

Sara smiled as he stopped the car, and they got out. Sara led him to the truck, letting the boy admire it. Personally Sara admired the character of the Chevelle and the Impala, but if Scott liked the bigger, newer things, well, Gavin's F350 was certainly a sight to behold.

"Is this yours?" Scott asked in awe.

"My brothers," Sara replied.

"I didn't know you had a brother," Scott said with a surprised smile.

"Biological," she said sheepishly.

"Sara?"

 _Speak of the son of a devil,_ Sara thought, as her brother exited the house and started down the steps.

"Listen, we need to talk about – who is this?" Gavin stopped, frowning as he caught sight of Scott.

"Gavin," Sara said, swallowing. "Ah, this is Scott. Scott, my brother, Gavin."

"Hey," Scott said, offering his hand. Gavin shook it warily. "That is a sweet ride, man."

"It gets the job done," Gavin agreed.

"I'll say. Super duty?"

"Aye."

"Uh, how was, uh, that thing?" Sara asked, looking her brother up and down. He was banged up but mostly unhurt.

"Could have gone better, but no harm done," Gavin replied, not looking away from Scott.

"Good, good . . ." Sara looked nervously between her brother, who was glaring at Scott, and Scott, who was gazing at the truck.

"Well, uh, I'll be in a moment," Sara finally broke the silence, glancing at her brother.

He glared at her, but gave a nod, and headed inside.

"He seems nice," Scott said earnestly, and Sara sighed with relief.

Scott kicked at the dirt sheepishly. "You, uh, you never answered my question."

"Question?" Sara frowned.

"About homecoming? And going with me?"

"Oh! Oh, Scott . . ." she smiled, and those butterflies were back. She was grateful it was dark, and he couldn't see how hard she was blushing. "I – I would love to."

"Really?" Scott raised his eyebrows, surprised, but smiled. "Awesome!"

Sara laughed awkwardly, and so did Scott. He hesitated, and leaned forward, kissing her cheek gently before pulling away.

"I'll, uh, see you on Monday then," he said.

Sara waved as he got back into his car. She waited until she saw his taillights disappeared, and did a little excited dance before running up the porch steps, taking them two at a time. She entered the living room, and Jody looked up from her newspaper.

"Did you have a good time?" she asked.

"It was amazing," Sara sighed, mind far from angels and Lucifer, and much more focused on what she was going to wear to the dance.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey everyone! So I'm going to kind of combine episodes 12.06 and 12.07 (Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox and Rock Never Dies) so that things are all kind of happening at once over a few days, though the story is still following the story line with the show (just with Sara and the girls stories intertwined) as usual. Thank all so much for the reviews and follows and favorites!**

Alex didn't cry very often, but watching the reunion between Kevin and his mother changed that.

Linda Tran hadn't taken two steps towards her son before bursting into a fit of tears, throwing her arms around him and sobbing as she clutched him as though she'd never let go. Kevin was crying too, Alex noticed, and at this point was practically holding Mrs. Tran up. It was starting to sprinkle rain, but neither seemed to care.

Alex swallowed, turning away from the window and biting her lip. She glanced down at the unmarked number in her phone. Taking a deep breath, she hit 'call.'

After ringing twice, he picked up. "Hello?"

"H-hi," Alex said, heart racing. Her stomach was rolling over in knots. _Hang up, hang up, hang up_. "Is, uh, is this Richard Jones?"

"Yes it is, may I ask who is calling?"

"I – I'm with the, uh, Utah Land Surveying Company," she said quickly. "We're, uh, doing a . . . survey." _Weak, Alex. Weak._

"Oh, well, I'm very sorry but I'm rather busy at the moment . . ."

"That's okay, thank you for your time," Alex said quickly, hanging up _. Stupid, stupid. Why would he want to see you after all these years? You never even bothered to let him know you were alive._

The door opened, and Kevin entered, escorting his mother. Alex smiled and Linda grasped her hand with own.

"Can you believe it?" the woman asked tearfully.

Alex laid her other hand over Linda's. "I know," she said.

"Linda," Jody said, entering from the kitchen. She was smiling. "I'm so glad you made it."

"Jody – thank you, so, so much. I would have been here sooner but –"

"Don't even worry about it," Jody interrupted her. "Kevin is always welcome here, just like you. When was the last time you slept?"

"She's been driving for three days straight," Kevin said, giving his mother a scolding look.

"I just had to get here," Linda said breathlessly. "I _had_ to."

"I understand," Jody promised. "Come on, come sit in the living room. Sara made some tea earlier, I think it's still hot."

As Jody escorted Linda into the living room, Kevin glanced at the phone still clutched in Alex's hand. "Still calling and hanging up on your dad?" he asked.

Alex hesitated. "I just – I _want_ to talk to him, but he'll never believe it's me. I don't even know if he'd want to believe it's me."

"Alex, if you feel like you need to see him, then you should go," Kevin urged her. "I'll go with you if you want."

Alex swallowed. "Really?"

Kevin laughed, taking her hand and squeezing. "Really. Come on, you know I'd follow you anywhere."

Alex smiled, blinking back tears. "I love you."

"I know," Kevin said with a straight face, before grinning and leaning down to press his lips gently against hers. Alex closed her eyes, reveling in the fact that she was actually able to touch him, to kiss him – and he felt real. He was real, and warm and alive.

Kevin pulled away and Alex turned pink. "Last time we did that you shocked the hell out of me."

"Yeah," he said with a lopsided grin. "Being alive has more perks than being dead does."

There was a knocking on the door, and Fergus began to bark, startling Linda and causing her to squeak in surprise.

"Alex, could you get that?" Jody called.

Kevin headed to the kitchen, and Alex stepped towards the front door, opening it to the Winchesters.

"Hey," Alex said in surprise. "What're you guys doing here?"

"We worked a case two counties over," Sam said, entering as Alex stepped aside. "Figured we'd stop by and see how everyone's doing."

"What's Jody cooking for dinner?" Dean asked.

"Meatloaf!" Jody shouted from the living room, and Dean and Sam did a small high five.

Alex smiled. "Well, I'm glad you're here. You just missed Cas, him and Claire went to Singers to get a spare part for his truck." She paused. "And, there's someone else, here, too . . ."

Sam frowned, starting to ask her to elaborate, when he glanced behind her. His eyes widened slightly and he slapped Dean's shoulder, getting his brothers attention as Kevin joined them, peanut butter sandwich in hand.

The last time Dean has seen Kevin alive, the kid was a wreck. Barely twenty years old, drinking the hard stuff, mind a mess of prophecies and translations – he might as well have been dead already. Now he was alive, eating a sandwich in Jody Mill's house.

"Hey, guys," Kevin said with a sheepish smile.

"What – what the hell –?"

"Long story short, I'm not dead anymore." He waved his sandwich as though it were proof.

"Kevin – how?" Sam started, but Dean was much more enthusiastic, stepping forward and pulling the boy into a firm hug.

"Kevin freakin' Solo!" he laughed, and Kevin grinned too, hugging him back. Sam shook his head incredulously but also gave Kevin a quick hug.

"So, uh, what the hell?" Dean asked again, clapping Kevin on the shoulder.

"Chuck," Kevin said around his sandwich.

"Oh, well, okay then."

"Boys." Sara jogged down the stairs, holding her phone in her hand. "Good, you're here. Dad would like to know if you would pretty please look into the lead on Lucifer he sent to your phones."

"Did he really say it like that?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"No, but I think I'll not repeat what he actually said," Sara wrinkled her nose.

"C'mon, Sara," Dean said, giving her a look and crossing his arms. "It just doesn't have the full effect unless you do it right."

"Fine. He said to tell Lucy and Ethel to get off their miserable asses and get back to work or . . . or . . ." She huffed, putting the phone back to her ear. "What was it?" she grimaced as she listened, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples with her free hand. "Right. Chandelier made of entrails. Lovely."

"That's more like it," Dean said. He slapped Sam's shoulder. "C'mon, Ethel. Let's check on the women folk."

* * *

The next few nights were tough for Sara.

The threat of night terrors loomed over her head every time she went to sleep – she'd never been a quiet sleeper. But this was different.

For the first time ever, she couldn't remember what she'd dreamed about. Faces were blurred, voices were muffled. Everyone was talking at Sara, not to her, a garble of confusing babble that didn't stop even when she begged for it to stop. Somehow, the idea of being kept in the dark, her own dreams hidden from her, terrified her far more than any blood or fire or gore could.

"Hey, earth to Sara?"

Sara blinked, realizing she wasn't paying any attention whatsoever to the student council meeting. The other members were all staring at her – Scott looked mildly concerned, while Tara Chatham crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, huffing.

"S-sorry," Sara said, sitting up straight. "What was that last thing?"

Tara glared. "I said, homecoming court nominations have to be turned in by the end of the day. That's _your_ job, remember?"

"Right," Sara said, nodding. "The voting boxes are in the library. I'll drop them off at the office this evening so Mrs. Wilkins can count the votes."

"Make sure you do. I'm not having my chances at homecoming queen damaged just because you're a space case," Tara retorted, gathering her things as the bell rang. Sara was slower packing up, brow furrowed as she continued to dwell on her thoughts.

"Hey," Scott said, joining her. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, frowning. "You okay? You seem distracted today."

"I'm fine," Sara said, trying for a small smile. "I was just up late last night working on some homework. I guess I'm just a little drowsy."

Scott nodded, hesitating. "So, the dance," he started.

"Everything is pretty much ready," Sara started. "Tara is organizing the pep rally before the game so I should be able to concentrate on supervising the decorating committee."

"Right, right. I was just wondering if you, like, had a dress or anything yet?"

Sara raised her eyebrows, frowning. "Oh, um. No, not yet . . ."

"That's cool," Scott said quickly. "Just, um, let me know. So I can match your dress to a corsage."

"A corsage?" Sara blushed furiously. Back home in England, she'd never gone to any of the dances or anything of the like – this was her first one, and she was rather excited for it as her first real, (somewhat) normal high school experience. She was immensely enjoying herself helping with the planning, and now with Scott as her date . . . and she got a corsage?!

"Yeah," Scott grinned. "I just want to make sure everything goes perfect for you, you know?"

"O-okay," Sara's face flushed even more. "I'll let you know."

"Great." He smiled before waving and heading to get ready for football practice.

Sara's feelings were conflicted as she walked towards her locker. On one hand, she wanted to continue dwelling on her dream and try to figure out why it had been so eerie. On the other hand, she was too giddy for excitement to think of anything even remotely negative.

"Hey," Claire said, joining Sara. She was frowning, chewing on her pinkie nail, as she often did while feeling stressed. "Did you get Jody's text?"

"My phone died last period," Sara admitted, depositing her books into her locker. "Why? Is everything okay?"

Alex joined them, looking a little upset. "Did you hear about Asa?" she asked Claire.

"Yeah," Claire nodded, looking sad. "Jody just texted me."

"It's horrible. Poor Jody has to be so upset."

"Who's Asa?" Sara frowned.

"He was a hunter," Claire explained, lowering her voice. "Alex and I only met him once or twice – but him and Jody had a . . . thing."

Sara raised her eyebrows in surprise. "A thing?"

"A _thing_ ," Alex confirmed.

"Anyway, looks like there was some kind of accident on a hunt," Claire continued. "He accidentally hung himself."

"That's horrible!" Sara exclaimed.

"Yeah," Claire agreed. She shook her head. "It doesn't make since to me. Guy supposedly killed five wendigos in one night. He just didn't seem like the reckless type."

"Accidents happen," Alex reminded her.

"I guess," Claire agreed begrudgingly. "Jody and the boys are going to his wake up in Manitoba. Says they should be back in a couple of days."

"Is it really safe to be traveling?" Sara asked nervously. "Lucifer is still out there somewhere . . . those angels weren't messing around. They're afraid."

"Yeah, well, they should be," Claire said, crossing her arms. "No one lifted a finger to help him out after Amara and God ghosted. He's probably pissed off."

"He's _always_ pissed off," Sara said in exasperation. She toyed with the charm necklace around her neck – the same one Toni had confiscated. Castiel had found it in her desk drawer and returned it to Sara, who had silently swore to never take it off again.

"Talking about me?"

Sara rolled her eyes at Ben's sarcastically sweet voice as he joined the girls leaning against the lockers. Sara was infuriated by his intoxicating scent, and swiftly moved away, slamming her locker door.

Ben's smirk didn't leave his face, and Sara was completely positive he knew – and enjoyed – just how he pushed her buttons. "C'mon, Red, I'm just making conversation."

"By eavesdropping?" Sara retorted. "And don't call me that."

"Right, right, sorry," he said, not looked at all sorry. "So," he said, crossing his arms. "How's your little dance thing coming?"

"It's going fine," Sara said icily. "I suppose you won't be attending?"

"Might swing by," Ben shrugged, pushing himself off the locker. "Save me a dance?" he winked, and disappeared down the hall. Sara clenched her fists, glowering after him.

"You let that guy get to you, you know," Alex told her. Claire gave a half nod in agreement.

"He's starts it!" Sara exclaimed.

"Okay, calm down there kiddo," Claire said. "Let's think about something else. Let's buy some junk food and have a Netflix marathon tonight."

"Sounds great," Sara replied. "I'll just drop off the homecoming nominations and we can get going."


	14. Chapter 14

**First of all, a little message to the CW, in the words of my favorite Pirate - STOP BLOWING HOLES IN MY SHIP.**

 **Spoilers for last weeks episode:**

 **So I guess now I have to address the Gavin thing, huh? Luckily for me the rest of the show - the Brit Men of Letters, Lucifer, the Yellow-Eyed Demons, that's perfect. That is going so perfect for me. I have so much material to work with with those specific plot lines. But noooo, they just had to go and kill off Gavin. Greeeeat. So here's what's going to happen - I like to keep this story as canon as possible, as you know, only with my twists of the girls and Jody and Kevin and whatnot. But I can't go and kill off Gavin cause I've got plans for the boy. So as far as that episode goes, when it comes to that point in this story, I'll have to change things up a bit. You'll see.**

 **As of right now, we're still between Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox and Rock Never Dies.**

 **You guys are awful quiet - remember to comment your feelings/questions/favorite moments! I'm going to start to reply to ya'll soon! Enjoy!**

* * *

Sara had overslept – something she didn't do often – and was quickly getting ready for school the next morning when she heard Claire's panicked voice from downstairs. Frowning, she pulled on her shoes and rushed down the steps two at a time, finding Claire pacing the kitchen. Her eyes were wet, but she wasn't quite crying, though she was certainly upset.

"No, it's not okay!" she was exclaiming into the phone pressed to her ear. "You could have been killed! This is exactly what we're worried about – I don't care that it doesn't have anything to do with Lucifer, Lucifer can screw off. This is about you and Sam and Dean. You guys have got to be more careful!" Claire listened for a moment, obviously still steaming. "Yeah, maybe I am lecturing you. I'm sorry. I just – are you okay?" She listened again, face softening. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. I love you, too. Be careful." She hung up and sat down heavily at the table, running her hands through her hair, something she always did when stressed.

"What happened?" Sara asked, heart in her throat –something had obviously gone down with Jody.

"What's all the commotion?" Alex exclaimed as well as she joined them in the kitchen, pulling her coat on.

Claire sighed and looked up. "That funeral – Asa's funeral – I don't know all the details. But a demon showed up there. Lotta bodies dropped and Jody got possessed."

"What?!" Sara and Alex exclaimed at the same time.

"The demon got exorcised and Jody's fine. Well, I guess. Fine is a relative term for someone who just got possessed by a worthless piece of hellspawn. No offense, Sara."

"None taken," Sara frowned, and the lights flickered. Claire and Alex glanced at the lights in the room, then back to Sara.

"Sara?" Alex started.

"It's nothing," Sara said, rubbing her temples. "Nothing. Just – I need a few minutes. You guys go ahead, I think I'll lie back down for a while. I'll be at school later."

Claire and Alex hesitated.

"Really," Sara said. "I'll be fine."

She sat down at the table, concentrating on the sounds of her sisters leaving. Sweat was beading on her forehead, and as soon as the sound of the Chevelle disappeared down the road, Sara let out the tight breath she'd been holding. All the light bulbs in the kitchen burst, and Sara sighed, feeling her eyes flicker.

She'd been having trouble with her anger lately – she became irritated easily and had a harder time controlling her temper, though she kept it hidden from the others. Demon's tempers were explosive – there was a reason mutilated cattle were often found in their wake – but so far Sara had kept it in check and spared any local livestock. However, the idea that someone had tried to hurt Jody in any way, to hurt the Winchesters, just to do it, to be evil . . . Her blood almost boiled. She hadn't been this angry since the day she'd tried to kill Toni. And she could do nothing to calm herself.

But she could, she realized after a moment.

She stood, concentrating on not breaking anything else in the house as she shakily took out her cellphone. She stood on the porch – Alex's cat, Jericho, hissed and ran away quickly. Fergus lifted his head from where he was laying in the shade, tilting his head curiously at his master.

Sara dialed Roland's number, and after a few tense moments, the demon answered.

"Sara," he greeted her.

"A demon was exorcised by the Winchester's last night," Sara began. "Yeah?"

Roland was silent for a moment, and Sara could hear pages rustling. "That's correct," he said after a moment. "Jael. Slimy little crossroads demon. We've had some trouble with him – he's not as inconspicuous as we'd like. Really enjoys bloody, slow hangings in places that draw a lot of attention. It's a pain in the ass, really."

"He possessed Jody," Sara said, keeping her voice as even as possible. "And tried to hurt my friends. He killed a lot of good people last night."

"Yes, he made quite a mess," Roland continued. "And really pissed off the hunter community. He's caused a lot of trouble for us."

"How will it be dealt with?"

"As of right now, he'll be confined to hell. Without Crowley here to reside over trials and sentences, things are messy."

"How would he usually be dealt with?"

"Oh, it depends. A few decades on the racks, maybe. An execution if Crowley is in a particularly nasty mood."

"I happen to be in a particularly nasty mood," Sara said coldly. "Hang him from racks for as long as he can stand it. Then let the souls of those he damned have him while he still hangs."

"As much as I appreciate the poetic irony of it, I'm afraid I can't do anything without the King's permission."

"I'm the princess of Hell," Sara retorted. "And I can do as I damn well please."

Roland was silent for a moment. "Yes, I suppose you can," he finally replied, the amusement evident in his voice. "I'll see to it then. Your highness."

Sara hung up, taking another deep breath. Well, that certainly helped a bit, though she tried not to imagine the grisly details. Did she feel guilty? Yes. But then she thought of Jody, the woman who'd shown her so much love and care, and the guilt evaporated in an instant.

Fergus pushed his head against her hand, and Sara fondled his ears, smiling at him for a moment before going to sweep up the broken glass in the kitchen and replace the light bulbs before Jody got home.

* * *

Claire picked at her lunch, not nearly as hungry as usual. She had so much on her mind – between Gavin's secret witchcraft and Sara's odd behavior this morning, all she could really do was frown and contemplate when exactly her life got so weird.

"You okay?" Alex asked, glancing up from her phone, where she'd just been texting Kevin.

"Yeah," Claire frowned, sipping some soda. "Did Sara seem weird to you this morning?"

Alex hesitated. "Sara's seemed weird to me since the whole Men of Letter's thing," Alex lowered her voice, and her eyes as well. "Which I get – she was tortured almost to death, after all, that's not something you get over quickly. But still . . . Mostly she's okay – she's the same chipper, regular Sara she's always been. But sometimes I look at her and it's like she's a different person. She gives off this sense of power that makes me nervous."

"Right?" Claire agreed, relieved her sister agreed with her. "I think . . . do you think she's like, two different people?"

"You mean, like human-Sara and demon-Sara?" Alex asked, raising her eyebrows, and Claire nodded. Alex hesitated, frowning. "I think," she started slowly. "That if there are two sides of Sara, they're much more closely related than we initially thought. That maybe Sara's becoming one human-demon entity instead of the two being separated."

"Do you think we can get her back to normal?"

"I don't even know what 'normal' is," Alex admitted, but she sighed. "Maybe . . . maybe once Lucifer is taken care of, and things are back to _our_ normal, she'll ease up a bit."

"Sam says Lucifer is in Vince Vincente."

Alex raised her eyebrows. "Still?"

Claire shrugged. "Rowena blasted him into the ocean and according to those angel-stalker douchebags, he's back at full power."

"That's not good," Alex frowned. "Vince Vincente has a huge fan base. Lucifer could easily use that to his advantage."

"What's he going to do with a bunch of forty year olds and hipsters?" Claire snorted, continuing to push her food around with her fork.

"I think we've learned by now not to underestimate him," Alex said quietly, and Claire did have to agree with that, rubbing her chest gingerly where Lucifer had touched her soul.

Claire glanced down at her phone as it buzzed.

"It's Jody," she said. "She'll be back sometime tonight. Her and Mary are bonding."

"That's good," Alex said, taking a sip of orange juice. "Jody could use more girl time. And Mary could use more friends that are, well. Alive."

They glanced up to see Sara enter the cafeteria, glancing around and waving when she saw her sisters. Claire and Alex sat up straighter, guilty that they'd just been talking about their sister behind their back. If they looked guilty, though, Sara didn't notice as she plopped down across from them, tossing her hair of her shoulder and smiling.

"How ya feeling?" Claire asked.

"Much better," Sara replied, reaching over and taking a piece of untouched celery from Claire's tray. "I just needed a little rest is all. What are we talking about?"

"Jody," Alex said. "We think it's a good thing her and Mary are spending some time together."

"Mm." Sara swallowed and sipped some water from a bottle. "I agree. Poor Mary, it must be so difficult for her to come back here to all . . . this. Her boys grown, husband dead, practically everyone she's ever known gone . . . She doesn't deserve to go through it. It breaks my heart."

"You really like her, huh?" Claire asked.

"She reminds me of my mum," Sara admitted.

The crackling over the student intercom cut them off as the midday announcements came on, providing the students with the lunch menu for Monday, the time of the football game that evening, and finally, the homecoming court winners.

A hush fell over the cafeteria as the homecoming princes were announced – Scott, obviously, who waved humbly as the kids clapped for him, and three other boys the girls only knew vaguely. A dead silence hit the cafeteria as the princesses were announced.

"Tara Chatham," the announcement said, and Tara's friends squealed as Tara smugly waved. "Sara Evans." More cheering, and Sara blushed as Claire grinned at her. "Kelly Wu." The popular exchange student smiled sweetly as there was more clapping. " . . . and Claire Novak."

This won the most cheering from the cafeteria, except from Tara, whose eyes were wide as she stood to protest to anyone who would listen. Claire choked on her soda, coughing until she was red in the face, Alex hitting her on the back.

"What?!" Claire exclaimed, eyes as wide as Tara's. She looked at Sara. "Did you –?"

"Nope," Sara said, smiling broadly. "Claire, look around you – everyone likes you. You're the only person in school that doesn't put up with Tara's crap, and you have an attitude everyone likes. You're popular."

"I am?"

"You are," Alex assured her.

Claire looked at Alex. "Why didn't you -?"

"I was princess last year," Alex reminded her. "And it sucked. I don't like all that attention, makes me claustrophobic. It's your turn now. Congratulations!"

"Sara," Scott said, joining them. He was smiling. "Congratulations. You, too, Claire."

"Yeah," Claire said faintly, still in shock.

"Thanks, you too," Sara smiled brightly.

"Can I walk you to class?"

"Sure!"

Claire and Alex watched as the two disappeared into the mass of students filing from the cafeteria. Claire still looked stunned. Alex was amused.

"Come on, your highness," she said, pulling Claire up. "Let's get you to calculus."

Claire decided to call Jody on the way home as Alex drove. She hesitated, dialing her foster mother's number and waiting for her to pick up.

"Hey, kiddo," Jody finally picked up.

"Hey," Claire said. "How's it going?"

"Oh, it's goin'. We're in North Dakota, stopping for gas and cheeseburgers. How was school?"

"Oh, um, the usual. Sara is a homecoming princess."

"That's great! Good for her."

"Yeah," Claire nodded, twirling her hair. "Um, so something weird happened."

"What's that?"

"So did I."

"So did you what?"

"I got elected homecoming princess."

There was silence, and then an ear piercing, high pitched squealing. Claire pulled the phone away from her ear, and Alex grinned.

"Oh my God!" Jody said excitedly. "You did?! Did you really?! That's so great! Wow, I can't – I'm so happy for you!"

Claire could hear Sam and Dean questioning Jody. Jody replied quickly, and then Dean was on the phone. His voice was amused. "Hey, princess."

"Don't," Claire threatened.

"Hey, come on, not every day a young lady gets an honor like that. Tell ya what, you have the handmaidens whip you up a fancy dinner and we'll stop and get your crown engraved on the way home."

"Hanging up now," Claire retorted.

"What size tiara do you wear?!"

Claire rolled her eyes and hung up. "Why is it so hard to believe?!" she complained.

"Why is it so hard to believe that a gun-toting, flannel wearing, monster killing teenager with a shoot-first, ask-later policy won a high school popularity contest?" Alex asked innocently. "No idea."

"Sara won too!"

"Sara is an _actual_ princess."

"Of Hell!"

"Plus, she's what popular girls are made of," Alex reminded her. "She's British, she's adorably sweet, and she's on every school organization and committee under the sun."

"Why do you think she does all that?" Claire wondered.

"I think it normalizes her," Alex replied. "She was in the system so long, with crappy home lives and bad luck. Then she came here, found out she has a dad who loves her, a foster mom who loves her, two sisters, two hunters, an angel, a brother, all these people who love her. Now that she feels secure she's able to go about having a regular high school experience. It's good for her."

"Okay, Dr. Phil," Claire mocked, but she knew her sister was right, and secretly wished she could be more like Alex and Sara both.

They arrived back at the house, and Sara parked behind them. She got out of the truck, following her sisters into the house. They were greeted with the scent of strong tea and expensive perfume, and they looked at each other. Claire reached for the angel blade in the hidden compartment of her bag, and Alex quietly opened the drawer to the stand by the door, withdrawing a gun. Sara frowned, leading the girls into the kitchen.

They were relieved – for lack of a better word – to find Rowena sitting at the table, sipping some tea. The girls relaxed, and Claire dropped her blade back in her bag as Alex turned the safety back on the gun.

"Hello, girls," the witch greeted them, sitting her tea cup down.

"Rowena," Sara frowned.

"No need to be so formal, dear, you can call me grandmother," Rowena reminded her, standing and moving to hug the girl. Sara returned the embrace, remembering that Sam had warned her about Rowena, yet Sara still appreciated the affection. Rowena pulled away, taking Sara's face in her hands and examining her proudly. "You get prettier every day," she giggled, tapping her nose.

"What are you doing here?" Claire frowned.

Rowena stepped towards the table, pouring three more cups of tea as the girls sat down. Sara noticed that instead of her usual extravagant gowns, Rowena was wearing a very tasteful green sweater and black pencil skirt. She still looked beautiful, unsurprisingly.

"I wanted to check on you girls after seeing that Lucifer has returned to full power," the witch replied as she sat down again. "I did knock, but your . . . foster mother must not be home."

"She's with Sam and Dean," Sara told her. "They went to a funeral for a hunter friend."

"You don't mean to tell me she left you here by yourselves?"

"We can take care of ourselves," Claire retorted.

"The house is very heavily warded," Alex agreed in a much more polite manner. "No one has found it yet . . . well, except for you." She frowned curiously. "How did you get here, anyhow? There are no other cars outside. Did you . . . do witches fly?"

"Don't be silly, dear," Rowena replied with a smile. "I took an Uber." Her frown returned after a moment, though. "Still, I'm bothered by the idea of you girls being left alone."

"You mean Sara," Claire glared.

"I'm not fond of the idea of any young woman being left defenseless," Rowena replied, raising her eyebrows. "Despite what you may have heard from my son and the Winchesters, I'm not totally wicked. I have a soft spot in my heart for girls like you."

"Girls like us?" Alex asked.

"You're young, beautiful, smart girls," Rowena continued. "Clever beyond compare and not nearly so ignorant as most humans." She pursed her lips. "But Lucifer is still a constant threat. I can teach you how to protect yourselves from him, if you like."

"Whoa, no, no, no," Claire said quickly. "I'm not interested in any witchcraft."

"Knowing a few spells doesn't make you a witch, darlin'," Rowena told her. "Even your Winchesters know some spells. These spells I could offer are all strictly defensive – warding, shielding, things of that nature. For most of it you don't even need to know the incantations. I'm surprised Gavin hasn't taught them to you already."

"Gavin?" Sara frowned, and Claire looked away.

Rowena raised her eyebrows. "Did he not tell you?"

"Tell us what?" Sara asked, frowning deeply.

"Your brother is a witch."

Sara blinked. "What? No, not Gavin."

"As much a witch as I am," Rowena confirmed. "Less talented, of course. But he knows his way around a spell book, yes."

"Did you know about this?" Alex asked, glancing at Claire.

"He doesn't like to talk about it," Claire muttered.

"You did know?" Sara raised her eyebrows.

Claire sighed. "When we were taking that vamp nest out, he . . . yeah, he used magic. But only because I was in trouble."

"What did he do?" Alex asked.

"He . . . he decapitated the vampire. From across the room. Without a weapon."

" _Occillo_ ," Rowena intervened. "A simple spell, but effective."

"Look, I only found out like a week ago," Claire defended herself. "We haven't really talked about it. He gets funny when I mention it. I don't think he even wanted to tell me."

"Some people just don't appreciate the gifts they're given," Rowena sniffed, taking a sip of her tea.

"Oh, damn," Sara muttered, looking down at her phone.

"What's wrong?" Alex asked.

"It's Scott," Sara sighed. "He's asking about my dress – he wants to match a corsage to it."

Claire pretended to gag, and Rowena looked intrigued. "Scott?" she asked.

"Sara's boyfriend," Claire rolled her eyes.

"No, he's not – it's not like that," Sara flushed as red as her hair. "He's a friend, a good friend, and we're going to a dance together. The dance is in a week, but I haven't got a dress yet."

"Yeah, me either," Claire frowned, and Alex nodded in agreement.

"Well, what are we sitting around here for?" Rowena demanded, standing and taking her purse from the counter.

"What?" Sara blinked.

"Let's go," Rowena told her.

"You shop?" Claire narrowed her eyes.

"Do you think I magically wake up looking like this every morning?" Rowena demanded, gesturing at herself. "Please. I may be a three hundred year old witch, but I do know how a MasterCard works."

"What about Lucifer?" Alex frowned.

"Lucifer, Smucifer," Rowena said. "He's in that old, washed up rock star. He's not going anywhere in the next few hours. We'll ward the place when we get back." She smiled brilliantly. "Get your coats, girls. We're going shopping."


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi guys! Thanks for all your support and comments! I'm going to start replying to any questions/reviews below at the end of the chapter! See you soon and enjoy the story!**

* * *

Rowena had a funny little way of getting what she wanted.

They had walked into an extremely high end, expensive looking gown shop, and the women working there immediately pursed their thin lips and wrinkled their overly Botoxed noses at the sight of Alex, Claire, and Sara, who were all wearing worn out jeans, scuffed boots or tennis shoes, and in Claire's case, flannel. However, Rowena had sauntered up to the counter, exchanged a few words with the employees, and immediately the women jumped into action, quickly running to get some dressing rooms ready.

"How do you do that?" Sara asked her grandmother in awe as they followed a middle-aged employee to a room where they were served cucumber water and given free reign of the store.

"The name MacLeod pulls a lot of weight if you know how to use it correctly," Rowena replied, sitting down and crossing her legs daintily as she sipped her water. "Have at it, ladies – and ignore the price tags."

Alex had to admit, it was like a fairy tale walking through the layers of tulle, beading, and silk. She'd never in a million years step foot in a place like this on her own. Last year she'd bought her dress from a thrift store. This was completely out of her league.

Claire didn't wear dresses, so she wasn't even remotely sure of what to look for – however, she was the first to pull a dress off the rack. It was a short, long-sleeved dress with intricate sequin patterns in oranges, blues, golds, and black, with a plunging neckline. Alex glanced at it and hid a grin – Claire always was the most bold out of them.

Claire entered the dressing room and put it on, returning to the room where the others were. Alex whistled lowly. "You are the only person in a million years that could pull that off," she admitted.

"You look awesome," Sara agreed.

"I'm inclined to agree with them," Rowena admitted herself.

Claire glanced at herself in the mirror, wondering if this is the type of life she would have lived if her father had never been possessed – school dances, shopping with her mom, getting excited about being homecoming princess . . . they seemed silly from her perspective, but at the same time, she got why Sara loved this so much – it was normal.

"Do you like this?" Alex frowned, holding up a plain yellow dress.

"Oh, darlin'," Rowena sighed, setting her glass aside. "Don't be modest." She strolled down the aisle of dresses, pausing and pulling a short purple dress from the hook. It was overlayed in lace, with a beaded waistline. It was simple but eye-catching, and Rowena handed it to Alex as she continued to look through the dresses.

Sara, like Claire, had no idea what she was doing. The problem with being a redhead was how often things clashed. She rubbed her arm nervously as she looked around, overwhelmed.

" _Sara?_ "

Sara paused, turning and stifling an eye roll as Tara Chatham strutted towards her, a smug smile on her face and a dress bag slung over her arm. Her mother was with her – a severe looking woman who was an older, carbon copy of Tara, only with a short bobbed hairstyle and a well-tailored pantsuit. Sara had heard stories of Mallory Chatham from Jody. She was the deputy mayor of Sioux Falls, and often clashed with Jody, as the Sheriff was one of the only people who wouldn't constantly tell her what she wanted to hear. Mrs. Chatham was notoriously nasty to deal with, and surrounded herself with yes-men.

"Is this one of your little friends, Tara?" Mrs. Chatham asked her daughter, not really looking like she cared.

"Mother, please," Tara rolled her eyes. "This is Sara Evans."

That caught Mrs. Chatham's attention. "Oh, one of Jody Mill's . . . children?" she gave a tight smirk. "I had no idea the Sheriff shopped here. What a small world it is. Is she here?"

"No, actually," Sara said, turning pink at what the woman was implying. "Jody had to go to a funeral."

"Oh, how sad," Mrs. Chatham brushed her off. "Surely you girls aren't here alone?"

"Can you even afford to look in this place?" Tara asked sweetly.

"Now, Tara, she might just be looking, or there could be a sale . . ." Mrs. Chatham faux-scolded her daughter.

Sara opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted as Rowena joined her.

"There you are," she said as she joined Sara. "I've been looking for you, dear." She turned, glancing at Mrs. Chatham and Tara. "Oh," she said sweetly. "Friends of yours?"

Mrs. Chatham looked surprised by the appearance of the elegant woman so shockingly similar to Sara, and she blinked. She quickly turned on the charm, holding her hand out. "Mallory Chatham," she introduced herself. "Are you a relative of Sara's? Her aunt?"

"Grandmother," Rowena replied smoothly, shaking her hand before withdrawing it to tuck Sara's hair behind her ear affectionately. "Rowena MacLeod."

" _Grandmother?"_ Mrs. Chatham's eyes widened slightly. She glanced around and leaned in. "Who does your work?" she asked quietly.

Rowena smiled charmingly. "Mother nature, dear." She glanced at Tara. "Oh, is this _your_ granddaughter?"

Sara bit her lip to keep from laughing as Mrs. Chatham's eyes widened and her facial expression shifted into one of badly-controlled rage. "I'm her _mother_."

"Oh, well, that's okay," Rowena said innocently. She glanced at the dress bag on Tara's arm. "Ooh, Dior," she raised her eyebrows, and Mrs. Chatham began to look smug again, before Rowena added sweetly, "How quaint."

Mrs. Chatham's nostrils flared with anger, and she grabbed Tara's arm. "Come on, Tara," she snapped, pulling her daughter away.

"Nice meeting you!" Rowena called. She looked quite pleased with herself, and looked toward Sara, who was grinning. "What?"

"You're petty," Sara grinned.

"Am I?" Rowena asked innocently, looking back to where Mrs. Chatham was making a show of how much she was paying for her daughters dress. "Well, maybe." She narrowed her eyes. "But really, one little spell and I could make all that fake yellow hair fall out of her head in a second." Mrs. Chatham glowered over at them from across the store, and Rowena smiled kindly, giving a little finger wave.

"No spells," Sara was still grinning.

Rowena sighed. "You're just like your father, you don't let me have any fun." She turned back towards the dress racks. "Now – we still have to get you outfitted. And always remember – a woman's greatest weapon is her charm."

For a moment Sara couldn't see how that was true, but then remembered her grandmother had a thing with God, and admitted she might be right. She followed Rowena to the dress racks, looking through the black dresses until Rowena pulled a red gown.

"It won't be too much red?" Sara frowned, gesturing at her hair.

"My darling, there is never too much red," Rowena said, laying the dress in Sara's hands and pushing her gently towards the dressing rooms.

Sara changed quickly, unsure how to react to herself in the mirror. The dress certainly was beautiful – quite like something Rowena would wear herself. It was made of red silk, embroidered with red flowers and stands of gold thread. The short sleeves were sheer embroidery, and the dress itself stopped a few inches above her knees. It was classy, and rather exquisite, making Sara herself feel a bit plain in it. She sighed, exiting the dressing room.

Rowena covered her mouth with her hand, overreacting as always, and Sara rolled her eyes. Claire nodded enthusiastically.

"It's hot," she promised.

"It's perfect for you," Alex agreed. "Rowena, you really know what you're doing."

"Of course I do," Rowena replied. "I'd never lead my girls astray. Shall we move on to shoes?"

* * *

Claire had fought vampires, ghosts, demons, and even angels, and she still had never felt as tired as she did at the end of their shopping spree. Her feet ached, and she yawned several times on the way back home, letting Alex drive.

"Thank you so much," Sara said to her Grandmother as they returned to the house. "This was too much, really."

"It was nothing," Rowena replied, fussing with Sara's hair. "I've spent a long time building my fortune. It would be lonely spending it all on my own."

"There's so much more about you I don't know," Sara shook her head, mystified. "I would really like to see you again soon. Come by again?"

"Of course," Rowena said, looking taken aback. She paused for a moment before pulling Sara forward, holding her against her. Sara hugged her back, and Rowena stroked her hair. "I know your father and the Winchesters have told you that I've done some terrible things," she began. "And I'm not denying it. But I do care about you."

Sara blinked, conflicted. On one hand, she trusted the boys, and her father. On the other, her grandmother was here, in the flesh, holding her and sounding sincere. Sara swallowed. "I know."

Rowena pulled away, squeezing Sara's shoulder gently before picking up her purse as her car arrived. "Oh, before I forget," she said, reaching into her purse. She took out a piece of folded paper, handing it to Sara. "The warding. It'll protect you girls."

"Thanks," Sara smiled.

Claire and Alex thanked the witch as well, and the girls waved as Rowena got into the car. Then the girls struggled to get their many shopping bags into the house.

They collapsed in the living room, exhausted. Fergus jumped up onto the couch beside Sara, laying his head and paws in her lap. She pet him as she leaned her head back.

"Y'know," Claire said, munching on peanuts she'd grabbed from the kitchen. "Despite your grandma being a power-crazy, possibly-murderous witch, she's pretty cool."

They sat around chatting a while longer, until the door opened.

"Girls?" Jody called.

"In here!" Claire called.

Jody and the boys entered, and Jody looked around at the various dress bags, shopping bags, and shoe boxes. "What's all this?"

"Homecoming threw up in our living room," Claire said, throwing a peanut in the air and catching it in her mouth.

Dean peeked in a shoebox, wondering how the hell girls walked in those things. He gave Sam a look and the younger Winchester cringed, wondering the same thing. Jody just raised her eyebrows. "You girls went homecoming shopping on your own?"

"Queen Beryl took us," Claire said.

"She means Rowena," Sara rolled her eyes.

" _Rowena_ took you shopping?" Sam raised his eyebrows. "For a school dance?"

"She also gave us some warding," Sara said, handing the paper to Sam.

He unfolded it, looking over it for a few moments before glancing at Dean. Dean raised his eyebrows, and Sam shrugged. "It's legit."

"Well how 'bout that," Dean said, stealing some peanuts from Claire.

"Well, I'm not complaining," Jody said. "I _hate_ shopping."

"How are you feeling?" Alex asked.

Jody shrugged. "I've had worse," she promised. "It's all over now. As long as that demon doesn't come back, we're good."

Sara kept quiet, continuing to stroke Fergus. She wasn't even a little tempted to tell her family what she had done that morning – she didn't regret it, but she did feel more than a little monstrous, and she was sure her family would feel the same if they found out. So she'd keep it quiet.

It wasn't long after that Sam and Dean were getting back on the road. Sara and the girls said goodbye, before following Jody inside to have a late dinner and catch up. Sara listened for the most part, but in the back of her mind guilt gnawed at her, and she swallowed, hoping she wasn't becoming something to be feared.

* * *

 **Calliope29 - I hope you enjoyed the Rowena shopping trip! It was fun to write, I definitely love to write her (:**

 **Beachwishen - Your wish is my command! As it happens there is a very important chapter about Claire and Castiel coming up fairly soon. Stay tuned!**

 **sjwmaw - First of all thanks so much, you've been sticking with me through these stories for so long. And secondly, you're absolutely right, Sara definitely has a taste for her new found power and it's going to be a handful, especially in the next few batches of chapters coming up . . . ;)**

 **Thanks again for all the reviews! I'll answer any and all questions you have (within reason) and try and get back to everyone!**


	16. Chapter 16

Alex watched the small TV in the kitchen as she had her cereal the next morning. The news reporter was doing a story on the revival of Ladyheart. Vince Vincente looked harmless for the most part – the exact same as any other former rockstar in his sixties – but when he looked straight into the camera, Alex shuddered. Something was definitely wrong with the former idol, and it wasn't hard at all to figure out why Castiel and Crowley suspected him of being Lucifer's current vessel. His eyes gave it away – the same cold, malicious eyes Alex had seen before.

"What's that?" Claire yawned, entering the kitchen and glancing at the TV for a moment before opening the fridge in search of juice.

"I think that's Lucifer," Alex replied, turning the volume up.

Claire frowned, walking closer and watching. "So Cas and Crowley _were_ right?" She sipped her juice. "Bummer. Ladyheart's early stuff was great."

"Why a rockstar?" Alex wondered, shutting the TV off. "Of all the people in the world . . . politicians, billionaires, all these powerful people, and Lucifer chooses a washed-up rockstar? I just don't get it."

"Maybe he's looking for a hobby," Claire shrugged, sitting down and pouring some sugary cereal into a bowl of her own. She added milk, continuing, "Maybe he just likes the attention."

"If you're talking about Lucifer, my money's on the latter," Sara said as she entered the room, tying her robe around her middle tightly before sitting down.

Alex glanced at her phone, which was sitting on the table, vibrating. She leaned over and hit answer, putting it on speaker.

"Hey, Sam," she greeted him. "What's up?"

"We've got a lead," Sam said, and the girls could hear the rumble of the Impala in the background.

"Vince Vincente?" Claire asked around a mouthful of cereal.

"We think so – looks like Cas might be right. We're headed to LA to check it out."

"Are you meeting Castiel and Dad?" Sara asked.

"Yeah," Sam replied. "Why?"

Sara hesitated, remembering how much the boys had already endured, how Castiel had been literally trapped, and her father imprisoned . . . she shuddered. "Just be careful. All of you."

"We're trying to be as cautious – and as sure – as possible. Which brings me to my next question – Alex, can you get into the security system of the Bellaqua Hotel? It's where Vincente is staying, and we need any extra information we can get."

"Sure," Alex said. "Give me a couple hours."

"We could just go with you," Claire suggested.

Dean laughed in the background. "Not a chance."

"You heard him," Sam said, trying to sound apologetic. "We'll call when we learn something."

They hung up, and Alex went to get her laptop. Sara frowned, staring off into the distance for several long moments. Claire waved a hand in front of her, causing the girl to blink.

"You okay?" Claire asked.

Sara's frown deepened. "I just . . . have a bad feeling," she said, stroking Fergus as he pressed his head against her hand. "Like Lucifer wants this. He wants all the attention and the drama." She shook her head, rubbing her temples.

"Try not to stress over it," Claire told her as gently as she could. "You already do so much worrying. Maybe this one'll play out for us, yeah?"

Sara smiled weakly. "Yeah," she said, suppressing a sigh. "Maybe."

* * *

Crowley walked briskly through the corridor, checking his watch. It would be a while yet before Moose and Squirrel arrived in LA, so the King may as well attend to some business while he waited. He wasn't entirely sure Castiel wasn't about to run him through anyway – it was so easy to ruffle to angel's feathers, and fun, too. But even Crowley needed a break from the constant by-the-book rules and seriousness his current partner demanded.

He opened the doors to his throne room, surprised to find it more productive than usual – most of the council members were working, either talking quietly and going over forms, or signing various papers, or overseeing the servants as the place was cleaned. Crowley raised his eyebrows, watching things run smoothly.

"Your Highness," Roland greeted him, approaching from the other side of the room. "We weren't expecting you back for a while yet."

"Unfortunately our investigation is at a halt until the Hardy Boys arrive," Crowley replied. "So I thought I'd better get some real work done."

"Excellent, sir."

"What's on the list?" Crowley said, taking a clipboard from Roland and walking towards his throne. He scanned through the lists as he sat. "I take it the crossroads demons are still misbehaving? Bloody prats, thinking the second daddy walks off they can start acting up."

"They were, yes, especially following that nasty business with Jael."

"Oh, Jael," Crowley scoffed, laying the clipboard aside. "Right, he slaughtered some hunters and put us on the top of the list of 'Most Wanted Monsters' list. Where is the fool? I'll deal with him myself."

"Actually, sir, that won't be necessary," Roland said after a moment.

Crowley glanced at him, narrowing his eyes. "Pardon?"

"Your daughter already took care of it."

Crowley wasn't sure what to say. He stared blankly at Roland for a few moments. "Sara did?"

"Yes."

" _My_ Sara?"

"That's correct, sir."

Crowley leaned back in his throne, considering.

"She was . . . unhappy about Jael attacking the Winchesters and Jody Mills," Roland continued. "So she had him punished for it."

"And what, pray tell, was this punishment?"

Roland looked as though he were trying not to smirk. "She had him hung from the racks until he couldn't stand it. He didn't last long – Jael always was a weakling. After that the souls of his former clients were allowed to have him."

Crowley raised his eyebrows, shocked. "Really? That's beautiful."

"Indeed, sir." Roland glanced around. "It was a slow death, and as you can see, it really made an impact. With you occupied, everyone thought they could do whatever they wanted without facing consequences. But after Jael's _imaginative_ penalty, things shaped up quick. It's hardly been over twenty-four hours and already demons are keeping their heads down and trying to remain inconspicuous. Hell hath no fury like a princess of Hell, it seems."

"It seems so indeed," Crowley murmured. He mused over the papers for a few more moments, stroking the stubble of his beard thoughtfully. Finally, he stood, handing the clipboard back to Roland. "It would be a shame to waste such a lovely punishment," he said. "Give any Lucifer loyalists the same treatment as Jael. And have the crossroaders keep their heads down – cut down to a few hundred deals a week. The last thing we need is to draw attention from Lucifer _and_ scornful hunters."

"Yes, your majesty."

Crowley glanced down at his phone as it beeped with a message. "Ah, Bert and Ernie have finally made it to LA," he said. "Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a devil to catch."

* * *

Claire picked at the fries on her plate, biting her lip thoughtfully. She glanced up as Gavin sat a bottle of ketchup in front of her, and she smiled her thanks.

"I wish I could stay longer," he said as he sat across from her, popping a fry in his mouth. "But this past summer was crazy for Rugaru's shifting. They're all over the place."

"Keeping stocked up on the flamethrowers?" Claire asked.

"Yeah, and it's not been easy on my wallet," Gavin grunted, taking a drink of soda. He paused when he noticed Claire staring at him, and frowned. "What?"

"Can we talk?" Claire asked, leaning forward, ignoring her still untouched food.

Gavin's brow furrowed, and he reached out and took Claire's hand. "Of course," he told her. "Is everything okay?"

"I was just wondering . . ." Claire started, the hesitating for a moment. "About . . . you know. The whole magic thing."

Gavin sighed, withdrawing his hand to rub it over his fact in exhaustion. "Claire," he started. "It's not important. There's hardly anything to tell. I know some spells, yeah. It doesn't make me a witch."

"I know," Claire said, fiddling with one of her many rings. "It's just that, Rowena said –"

"Rowena?" Gavin frowned, crossing his arms. "When were you talking to Rowena?"

"She came by yesterday," Claire muttered. "She . . . took us shopping, look, that part doesn't matter," she continued quickly. "The thing that matters is, she said that she's over three hundred years old. So I was just curious . . ." she shoved some hair behind her ear, not meeting Gavin's eyes with her own. "Is that going to happen to you? Are you going to keep getting older but eventually just stop aging?"

Gavin was quiet for several long moments before sighing again. "Rowena hasn't stopped aging," he replied, leaning back. "She's just paused it. Without her magic, she'd be aging. It's spellwork – really complicated, powerful spellwork. The more a witch performs magic and uses spell, the slower they age, and the more power gets stored inside of them. It's how Rowena survived after being killed by Lucifer."

"So, that's the reason you don't use magic?" Claire asked slowly, catching on.

"I don't want to have to rely on magic my whole life," Gavin said firmly, laying his hands over Claire's again. "I want to live a – relatively – normal life." He shook his head. "Magic always has a price. I can't let that price be the people I care about." He reached out, tucking that stubborn piece of hair behind Claire's ear gently, running his thumb over her cheek gently. "I can't let that price be you."

Claire felt what Jody called "butterflies" and her heart seemed to skip a beat. She leaned across the table, pressing her lips against Gavin's briefly.

"I'm sorry I pushed you to tell me," she said quietly as she sat back.

"No," Gavin sighed, shaking his head. "I should be able to trust you with these things, with my feelings. I'm just not used to having someone I'm so close to. Don't want to scare you off."

" _You_ scare _me_ off?" Claire rolled her eyes. "Please."

Gavin grinned. "We're some pair, aye?" he chuckled, scratching at the stubble on his face.

"You can say that again," Claire agreed, dipping a fry and ketchup. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

 **Short chapter, I know, but I think the next one really makes up for it! ;) Welcome to those of you who are new to the story! Please enjoy it, and remember that I always appreciate any sort of feedback! I'm going to start working on the tumblr page again soon so be on the lookout for that! As always, thanks for all the support. Carry on!**


	17. Chapter 17

Alex glanced once again over the files she'd sent to Sam a few hours ago. A busted down door, a hurt band member, and Vince Vincente's eyes glowing red – there was no doubt now. The only thing left to do was sit and wait, and hope the boys were successful in taking Lucifer down.

"Hey," Sara breathed as she ran down the stairs. Fresh from the shower, she'd thrown her curls up into a messy bun, and was sporting a pair of gray sweatpants. She was buttoning a flannel over her sports bra, her bare feet quiet on the floor as she entered the kitchen. Fergus jumped up from where he was sleeping by the stairs, immediately on Sara's heels. Sara leaned over Alex's shoulder, looking at the files. "Staring at those won't help anything," she reminded Alex, wrapping her arms around the other girls shoulders and squeezing in a brief hug.

Alex sighed, laying her head on her sister's shoulder. "Do you ever get a really, _really_ bad feeling that the boys have gotten themselves into something really stupid, and there's nothing you can do about it?"

"Mm." Sara gave her shoulders another squeeze before heading for the fridge, pouring some juice into a glass. "I live that feeling." She sipped her juice, glancing at the clock, which told her it was a quarter past nine. "Is Jody working late again?"

"I think she's trying to distract herself," Alex replied. "If she puts in more hours at the station, she's too tired to worry over us by the time she gets home."

Fergus's ears perked and he growled. Sara frowned, but a moment later heard Gavin's truck, and she relaxed. She sat at the table, scratching the spot between Fergus's ears that made his leg twitch. The door opened and a few moments later Gavin and Claire entered the kitchen as well. Fergus jumped to his feet, shoving his nose against Gavin's hand. Gavin pet him absentmindedly.

"Have you looked at yourself lately?" Sara asked in mild amusement as she examined her brother. His dark auburn hair was wild and curly like hers, nearly past his shoulders, though he kept it swept off his face in a low bun. His stubble was also started to turn beard-like. This paired with the various amount of enchanted necklaces, rings, and symbols he wore – along with his signature leather jacket and worn jeans – made him look rather scruffy and handsome, though Crowley often berated him to clean up a bit.

"Aye, I catch the occasional glance in the mirror," Gavin retorted, running a hand over his stubble. "S'pose I could use a shave."

"I like the beard," Claire said, rubbing his face and grinning.

Gavin caught her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. "The beard stays, then," he grinned back, and Claire stood on her toes to kiss him.

Alex rolled her eyes and Sara pretended to gag. "At least Alex and Kevin respect the rules of PDA," Sara grinned.

"That's funny, didn't I see you wearing Scott's letterman jacket the other day and holding his hand on the way to class?" Claire asked innocently.

"Scott?" Gavin grabbed a soda from the fridge, frowning. "That bloke you were with last time I was here?"

"He's not a bloke, he's sweet," Sara muttered, blushing.

"Speaking of Kevin," Alex said as her phone began to buzz. She stood, leaving the room as Sara and Gavin began to argue. "Hey," she said as she answered the call. "What's up?"

"Do you remember that spyware I remotely planted into the mainframe of the Lawrence Police Department?" Kevin immediately threw her the rapid fire question, and Alex raised her eyebrows.

"Hello to you, too," she said, but couldn't help but be intrigued. "Your Trojan Horse? The one that gave you backdoor access to their records, reports, scanners, yadda yadda?"

"That's the one," Kevin agreed enthusiastically. "I uploaded it into their systems after you told me about the British guys. I just had a hunch they would hang around, and I was right. Three people have called in crimes in the past week. Bloody, messy crimes, lots of screaming."

"I sense there's a 'but get this' coming my way," Alex continued, leaning against the wall.

"But get this," Kevin was already saying. "By the time the cops got to the scene of the crime, all that was left were witnesses. The crime scenes were totally clean despite various reports. The crimes were all different – one lady said she saw a body burning from her third story apartment, a couple of kids said they found a dead body with fangs, you know, crazy stuff. But there was one thing in common, and that was the witnesses reporting seeing a man in a black coat and briefcase with a cross tattooed on the back of his hand."

"Okay, I'm intrigued," Alex frowned. "Who is he?"

"That's the thing. He technically doesn't exist. I found reports of a man called Ketch but any and all government documents I've been able to recover were short and to the point. Ex-military, British, works for a secret organization. Sound familiar?"

"The Men of Letters," Alex realized, eyes widening slightly. "Kevin, you're amazing."

"I know," the former prophet admitted playfully. "I'm still pulling records but a lot of these bigger organizations firewalls are harder to get through."

"Don't get arrested," Alex warned. "Jody may be Sheriff here in Sioux Falls but I don't know how much weight that'd pull with the feds."

"Come on, it's me we're talking about here," he told her.

"This means the Men of Letters stuck around Kansas even after what happened," Alex mused. "But why? Sam and Dean made it clear they weren't interested."

"I don't know, but I've got a bad feeling about this Ketch guy."

"That makes two of us," Alex agreed. "Send me what information you have. Remember to encrypt it first – if these guys are as good as they say they are, it wouldn't surprise me if they've already figured out they've been hacked."

"Hacked is such a strong word."

Alex grinned, hesitating and glancing over her shoulder at the kitchen. Claire, Gavin, and Sara were all at the table, laughing at something on Claire's phone. Alex bit her lip and returned to her phone call. "I miss you," she finally said.

"I miss you, too," Kevin said without hesitation. "I keep trying to come over there, but mom's afraid to let me out of the house. She's gonna buy me one of those giant hamster balls, I just know it."

"As long as it has wifi you'll be fine," Alex laughed.

"Can't argue with that. But really, I'll try and make it over this week. I want to go to your dance with you."

Alex blushed a bit, and was grateful none of her siblings were around to see it. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. I was too busy trying to get into Yale or deciphering the word of God to be able to go to my school functions. I should at least be able to go with you to yours. I mean, you're my girlfriend after all."

Alex bit her lip, trying to keep from smiling broadly. "I am?"

" _Are_ you?"

Alex's grin widened. "Are you asking me to be the Leia to your Han?"

"God, I love you."

Alex felt as though her face would break from smiling. "Yes, I'm your girlfriend, Kevin Tran."

"Thank God. I already told mom you were and it would just be embarrassing to have to take that back."

Alex laughed again. "I can tell just by talking to you that you are way too hyped up on caffeine," she continued. "Put the coffee down and step away from the computer. You need to sleep."

"I'll sleep when I'm dead," he retorted. "Again."

"Dead jokes, that's original," Alex shot back, still stifling a grin.

"Yeah, not my best material . . . maybe I should sleep."

Alex agreed enthusiastically. "Goodnight, Kevin Solo."

"Night, Princess Alex."

Alex rolled her eyes as she hung up, still smiling broadly as she returned to the kitchen to catch up with her siblings. Sara was making tea – a peace offering – as he brother continued to grumble.

"Kevin's coming this weekend," Alex told her siblings.

"That's great," Sara said, taking the kettle off the stove and pouring the boiling water into a few mismatched mugs. "Will you be attending the dance as well, Gavin?"

"I think not," Gavin snorted, and Claire rolled her eyes.

"The school board would probably have a fit if one of their princesses showed up with a guy who's almost thirty," she explained.

"Twenty-six," Gavin grimaced. "And I have a case to work in Canada this weekend. There's a huge werewolf pack migrating through Alberta and they're causing a lot of trouble. A few friends and I are heading up to take care of it."

"You have friends?" Claire raised her eyebrows.

"I had to make a name for myself when I was dropped in the middle of this time," Gavin told her. "They taught me the ropes of hunting."

"I thought you didn't like the term 'hunter'," Claire grinned.

"It's growing on me," Gavin said, taking a sip of his tea. "Don't tell Da."

"Just as well," Claire shrugged as she leaned back in her seat, dumping spoonful after spoonful of sugar into her own tea. "If I showed up with a guy like Gavin, Tara would be all over him. Then I'd have to break her nose again."

The girls laughed and Gavin asked for an explanation, and they continuing to chitchat among themselves. Jody arrived home a few minutes after, pulling her coat off with a sigh. Sara stood and began to make her some tea as Jody sat down, smiling at her foster daughter appreciatively.

"Things have been crazy on the hunter radio," the sheriff said, rubbing her temples. "Bobby's been gone almost five years and things still can't run smoothly without him. I get five phone calls a day asking me to pretend to be the director of the FBI. I can't handle it all."

"You said Bobby had a phone tree set up?" Alex asked, frowning.

"Yeah. FDA, FBI, various police lines. He had a system and it was good," Jody admitted. "These days it's divided up between Sam and Dean, myself, and Donna. Asa helped a good bit with it too, but now that he's gone . . ."

"I could take some on if you'd like," Gavin offered.

Jody looked relieved. "Actually, that would be really helpful. Thanks, Gavin."

"You should ask Kevin, too," Alex suggested. "I could set up a system if you'd like. Whenever a hunter needs a line, I could create a text-based system code. They would send a text code of who they need – FBI, Police, whatever – and it would come to all of you – Donna, Gavin, Kevin, Sam, Dean, and yourself – and whoever is available at the moment can take it. It would be much more efficient. I can take some of the calls, too. Maybe don't let Claire."

Claire stuck her tongue out, and Jody raised her eyebrows, impressed by her foster daughter's technological abilities. "How'd you learn so much about all this?" she asked.

Alex shrugged, stirring her tea. "It was quiet here before Claire came along. You had a lot of computer and tech books in the attic."

"Those were my husband's," Jody admitted. "I didn't have the heart to get rid of his books . . . I'm glad something useful came of them."

Sara had heard about what happened to Jody's husband and son from Claire, though Jody never talked about them herself. However, there were pictures on the walls of an older man and a small boy, and sometimes Sara caught Jody staring at them as she cleaned or dusted, tears in her eyes. Jody would quickly brush it off as allergies from the dust, but Sara knew better. For what must have been the millionth time, she felt grateful for Jody – a woman who'd gone through so much pain and suffering, losing her only family, and still taking in those in need.

She was pulled from her thoughts as Jody's phone rang. She glanced at it, frowning. "It's Dean."

"Finally!" Claire exclaimed, and Sara felt her heart speed up.

Jody answered, putting him on speaker. "Dean?"

"We lost him," Dean said gruffly. "Are you all in the house?"

"Yeah, we're here, we're fine," Jody frowned. Sara felt her stomach lurch in fear. They lost him? Lucifer had gotten away? _Again_?

"Good, stay there," Dean said firmly. "Just until we can make sure he's not looking for trouble in your neck of the woods."

"Are you hurt?" Jody demanded.

"We're fine, Cas healed us up. No one died tonight. Well, Vince Vincente is a goner, but we knew that coming into this."

"Is Cas okay?" Claire demanded.

"Cas is fine, he's going to meet us at the bunker."

"And my father?" Sara asked, surprised her voice came out as more than a squeak.

Dean was quiet for a moment as well. "He's fine, too," he finally said, and Sara felt an immense wave of relief crash over her. She stood on wobbly knees, making her way into the living room and sitting heavily on the sofa, blood roaring in her ears. The lamp next to her flickered and she quickly turned it off before she could break it. She took her phone from her pocket, hitting speed dial.

Her father answered after a few agonizingly long rings. "Darling."

"Are you hurt?" Sara asked. Dean's definition of fine was quite different from hers – just because her father was alive didn't mean he was unharmed.

"I'll heal," he replied.

"Castiel couldn't –?"

"He can't heal demons, love."

Sara swallowed. "Can you come over?"

"I'd rather you not see me at the moment."

"I haven't seen you in weeks, I've been worried sick," Sara argued. "Please, Dad."

He was quiet, and a moment later he was standing in front of Sara. She hung her phone up, stifling tears as she looked over her father, bloody and bruised. His suit was torn in places, his right eye swollen shut. Various cuts covered his face and a gash on his head was looking rather nasty.

Sara swallowed her tears, blinking quickly. "He almost killed you."

"I'm not sure what you were expecting," Crowley replied.

"Sit down," Sara commanded, trying to force her father to sit. "I'll get the first aid kit . . ."

"It'll heal," he reminded her.

"Quicker if it's tended to," Sara retorted. She went to the kitchen, having Gavin hand her the first aid kit from the top of the fridge. Everyone relocated to the living room, where Sara sat on the arm of the chair beside her father, dabbing at the cuts with alcohol soaked cotton balls.

"This is nothing, Sara," Gavin assured his sister, sitting on the couch with Claire. He glanced at his father. "There was this time he got in a bar-fight with Angus Brown over two cows and a woman. His nose never was quite right after that, and –"

"That'll do, son," Crowley said bitterly. "Castiel took the brunt of it, as it were. Luckily for him he's got that handy angel essence and had himself cleaned up in no time. Do you have any idea how much this suit cost?"

"Stop wriggling," Sara scolded as she applied some bandaids.

"Sam and Dean put us on house arrest," Jody frowned, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. "Do you really think it's necessary?"

"No," Crowley admitted, flinching away from Sara's touch as she examined his eye. She gave him a scathing glare and he rolled his good eye, holding still. "Lucifer said something before he disappeared – 'onwards and upwards.' He's going big, bigger than Vicente. He's becoming a _big_ problem – he's gone from vengeful to just plain destructive. I don't think he'll bother anyone here." He glanced at Sara, who was concentrating on applying some ice to his eye. "Still. Stay in tonight." He reached out, taking his daughter's hand, and she made herself look him in the eye. "Sara," he said pointedly.

She swallowed, and nodded. "I didn't have plans anyway," she said, trying to keep conversation light as she began putting the first aid stuff away.

Jody exchanged a look with Crowley, and pushed herself off the wall, clearing her throat. "Claire, Alex, give me a hand with dinner?"

"Sure," Alex said, giving a pointed look to Claire, who nodded.

"I'll help as well," Gavin said, standing and following them into the kitchen.

Sara was quiet and as she finished putting everything away. Her father watched her, and finally he leaned forward. "Sara."

"You almost died," she said quietly. "I'm fine, I'm just coping with . . . this. It's hard worrying over you all the time."

"Welcome to my world," he retorted.

Sara sighed, sitting back on the arm of the chair. "Things have been . . . difficult," she admitted. "I keep breaking lightbulbs, I have to keep sunglasses with me because my eyes randomly turn sometimes. I woke up in the bathtub the other night. I think I teleported in my sleep."

"You're stressed," he replied. "And not just over worrying for dear old Dad. Something's going on. I'd like to know what."

Sara shrugged, hugging her arms to herself. "Sometimes I . . . I get angry," she said, looking down. She began to fidget nervously. "Really, really angry. Over stupid stuff. Stuff I can't change, like what happened with the Men of Letters and Lucifer and . . . it just sort of takes over. I want to break things and rip and tear my way through whatever's in front of me. I have to lock myself in the basement alone so I don't say or . . . do anything to anyone." She shook her head, running a hand through her hair in exhaustion. "What's wrong with me?"

"Fortunately it's something that can be fixed very easily," Crowley replied. "Unfortunately, you're not going to like it. Sara, you're well aware that you're half demon, but I'm not sure if you understand exactly what that means. Demons have certain needs, certain urges. While we come in all sorts of ways, we all have a common desire for bloodlust. It's in our nature to kill, to cause pain and destruction. It what we were created for. While some of us are better at keeping it as classy as possible, it's still inevitable. You're not satisfying your demon side."

"I don't want to," Sara said quietly, suddenly very frightened. She remembered what she had done to Jael, the satisfaction she'd had afterwards. But she'd felt guilt too – surely she was more human than anything? Wasn't she?

"I did say you wouldn't like it," her father reminded her. "You need to exercise your rights as a demon. As a very powerful demon. If you don't, eventually it will take over and your human side will be gone."

"I can't hurt innocent people," Sara whispered.

"Then don't," her father replied, and Sara glanced at him, frowning. A small card, similar to that of a business card, appeared in his hand. He handed it to her, and she read over it. It was a spell, a short Latin incantation.

"Roland told me what you had done to that insufferable twit Jael," Crowley said, and Sara flushed, embarrassed and worried for a moment she was in trouble.

"I'm sorry," she began. "I didn't think it through –"

"Never apologize for good work," her father told her, and Sara was surprised at his reaction. "You made a statement and the rest of the demons fell in line. It was a good move, really. I probably would have just destroyed him without another thought for the sake of time management. But what you did, now, that was effective." He looked proud. "I'd like you to do it again."

"What?" Sara frowned.

"With Lucifer out doing God knows what, I can't be around all the time to deal with the incompetence of Hell," Crowley continued, standing. "However, you've proven that you have the tenacity to take care of things quickly and effectively."

"You want me to . . . rule Hell?" she asked incredulously.

"To help rule it, yes," Crowley continued. "You say you don't want to take out your fury on innocent people. So don't. Hell doesn't take innocent people, Sara. Those damned to the pit are vicious, spiteful things. They've earned a spot there."

Sara turned the card over in her hand, considering. It was a safe alternative to potentially hurting her friends by accident . . .

"You'd never have to step foot into Hell, of course," Crowley continued, sensing her indecisiveness. "It's no place for you. But my base of operations is safe. Simply repeat the incantation on that card and you'll find yourself there. Roland and Camille will help you."

"I'll . . . have to think about it," Sara decided. "It's a big decision."

"Of course. Whenever you're ready, dear." He glanced at his watch. "I'd best go track down Feathers. I'll come by soon."

"Please," Sara said, grabbing his hand. Her wide, damp eyes caught Crowley off guard. "Be careful," Sara said quietly.

Crowley pulled her closed, kissing her forehead. "Always, darling. You as well." He was gone, and Sara sat heavily on the sofa, turning the card in her hand and wondering how she went from homecoming princess to possible ruler of Hell.


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey, everyone. I know we're all pretty devastated from the season 12 finale, but I promise I can work with it. It's Supernatural, after all. Some things aren't permanent, and if they are, well, all we can do is keep calm and carry on. I've got the next few chapters for this finished but as I recently lost my beta reader it's taking me some extra time to edit everything (if you see a lot of mistakes in this chapter, just know I edited this at 4:00 in the morning and I haven't slept in two days).**

 **Anyway, thank you all for being so patient! This chapter is kinda short, but I promise the next two are long, dramatic, and pretty important to the story. But for now here's a teenage girl trying to rule Hell and Mom!Mary. Don't forget to leave comments about what you like/dislike and what you want to see in the future!**

* * *

Sara sat on a secluded bench off to the side of the quad. Students were allowed to eat at the outdoor picnic tables on nice days, and the large area was abuzz with chatter and laughter. The school had been decorated in the school colors, with lots of balloons and banners with encouraging messages for the football team written on them.

Sara sat under one of these banners, far away from the other students as she rubbed her temples in exhaustion, her cell phone pressed to her ear. "Alright, who was there first?" she asked, stifling an annoyed huff.

"It's two different stories," Roland reported. "Some of the demons are saying that this particular crossroad went up for grabs months ago when it was built. You ask me I dunno why anyone would want it – it's under an overpass in _Minnesota_ of all places. Who the hell wants to work there?"

"Roland," Sara sighed. "Please."

"Right, well, Gamigin reckons it belongs to him since he was promised a new crossroad long time ago when his preferred one was ruined in a flood. Preta says she should get it since she sells more deals than Gamigin does. Both say they got there first."

"Brilliant," Sara huffed, head throbbing after two days of being Hell's diplomat. Damn, demons were needy. "Okay, let's do this. Who has seniority?"

"Gamigin's been buying and selling souls for at least a century longer than Preta. He's slower and puts in less souls a year, but they're big fish. Politicians, celebrities, the real scum bags Hell wants."

Sara thought for a moment. "How about this – let Gamigin have the crossroad under the interstate. Have someone in one of our higher up positions have a look at the National Highway System's plans for building roads. The first crossroad they come across can go to Preta."

Sara could hear Roland scribbling on his ever-present clipboard. "That should work perfectly. Now, for our final matter today, what would you like us to do with this month's arrival of pedophiles? As of now they're all in the wait line and they're getting bold and rather annoying to deal with."

Sara was thoughtful for a moment. "Do we have a snake pit?"

"We have a pretty big crater that could potentially be filled with snakes."

"That'll work."

"Perfect. That'll be all, your highness."

Sara hung up and sighed, laying her head in her hands. It was _paperwork_. When her father basically said, 'here, I'm busy, take hell over for me' she thought it would be . . . well, she didn't know, but she hadn't been expecting so boring. Was this what having a real job was like? _Gross_.

"Something on your mind, Red?"

Sara glared as Ben sat beside her on the bench, leaning back and taking a bite out of an apple. Sara side-eyed him with annoyance.

"I'm fine," she said snappily.

"You sure? You getting another one of those headaches?" he jerked his thumb towards the school. "I can go get the nurse or something."

Sara softened, surprised he remembered or even cared about that – it _had_ been an odd occurrence, she supposed. But it was still kind of him to offer.

"Thank you, Ben, but I'm fine," she said, her tone softening as well. "I'm just stressed is all."

"You w'na talk 'bout it?" Ben mouthed around the apple.

Sara rolled her eyes. _Charming_. "No, it's nothing important. Stupid senior stuff."

"Decorating dances and going to pep rallies?" Ben grinned.

 _Sentencing the evil people of the world to eternal tortures,_ Sara thought. "Yeah. That stuff."

"You oughta relax, Red," Ben told her, tossing the core of the apple into a nearby trashcan. "Take a night off. Go for a long drive, listen to some good music."

"With you?" Sara raised her eyebrows. "And again – it's Sara."

"Sure, why not?" Ben's grin widened. He nodded towards Scott, who was sitting across the courtyard, laughing with his friends. "Or will Clark Kent over there not let you?"

"Let me?" Sara's eyes narrowed. She stood, gathering her things. "Let me be clear about one thing, Ben Braeden," she said coolly. "I am my own person and no one controls me. Not you, not Scott. I choose what I want to do and who I want to do it with." She turned on her heel, marching away.

"Hey, hey!" Ben called, jogging to catch up. "Look, I didn't mean to piss you off or anything. I'm just – ah, hell, I'm a dick, okay? I'm just trying to figure you out."

Sara pointedly ignored him, continuing to cross the yard as the bell rang and students began to file inside.

"Sara, c'mon," Ben said, reaching out and touching Sara's shoulder gently.

Something in Sara snapped - and not in the demon part, either. She spun around, surprising Ben, and grabbed his shoulders. She grabbed one of his arms and stepped away, quickly turning and throwing him off balance. She yanked him over towards her, using her hips and back as well as her other arm to pull him off the ground, over her shoulder, and drop him to the ground. He landed on his back, and Sara leaned down and held him in place by pressing her elbow against his chest.

"You are _way_ too persistent," Sara warned him.

"Whoa," he said, more in awe than anything else.

"Keep it up," Sara continued, narrowing her eyes. "And next time I won't go so easy on you." She stood and walked towards the school, where a small crowd of kids had watched quietly. She joined Scott, taking his hand and pulling him into the school.

"That was _awesome_ ," Scott said as he followed after her.

Claire and Alex, who had been sitting at a table across the quad, watched as Ben got to his feet, brushing himself off. He didn't look angry, or even embarrassed – just perplexed.

"I taught her that," Claire said, sounding like a proud parent.

"He had it coming," Alex admitted, eating the last fry off her plate. "Teach me?"

"Sure. Think Ben'll let us use him as the test subject?"

"Twice in a row might be pushing it."

Claire shrugged as she and Alex started towards the school, but frowned and looked down as her phone buzzed – it was Gavin, which was odd. He never called during the day – he was usually asleep, and she was usually in school.

She answered. "Hey," she said, brow furrowing. "Everything alright?"

"Not really," Gavin said, and Claire gestured for Alex to join her by the wall outside the school. "We've got a problem."

"One sec," Claire said, putting him on speaker so Alex could hear too.

"Are you in trouble?" Alex asked nervously.

"We all are. I just talked to father. They've found Lucifer."

"What?" Claire demanded, eyes widening. "Where is he?"

"Lucifer has possessed Jefferson Rooney," Gavin said darkly.

"President Rooney? As in, the President?" Alex asked incredulously. " _That_ Jefferson Rooney?"

"One in the same."

"And there's more," Gavin said.

"God, we're in trouble. How can it get any worse?" Claire demanded.

"Lucifer has gotten a woman pregnant."

Alex and Claire were both silent as they let this sink in. The very idea of such a thing happening was dumbfounding . . . why now?

"The literal spawn of Satan," Claire said in a hushed tone.

"So, what are we talking about here?" Alex asked, half curious and half frightened. "A demon and a human create something as powerful as a Cambion. What does an angel and a human make?"

"It's called a Nephilim," Gavin said gravely. "And they're even more powerful than a Cambion."

"Is that even possible?" Alex asked, eyes wide. "Cambion's are the only things strong enough to take on Lucifer and win – what could a Nephilim do?"

"Anything it wants," Gavin replied simply. "And I mean literally anything. This is the child of _Lucifer_. Reality itself could be changed."

"What do we do?" Alex whispered.

"The obvious answer is to find to woman and . . . get rid of the . . . the thing," Claire said, disgusted with herself for even thinking it.

"Claire," Alex started.

"Look, I know it's harsh, but this is the child of Lucifer we're talking about," Claire said. "I . . . don't know what to think. I think . . . I think it's not my call. Who's the mom?"

"An aide, some woman called Kelly Kline."

"Well, we have to know what Kelly Kline wants," Claire said.

"For now all we can do is set up a plan. I'll head to the bunker and see what I can do to help," Gavin said. "You girls just steer clear for now. The last thing we need is Lucifer coming after all of us."

Claire wanted to argue, but she knew he was right. "Okay," she sighed. "Just . . . be careful, okay?"

"You, too," Gavin told her. "I'll call when I get to the bunker."

They hung up, and Claire and Alex stared at each for a long moment.

"We need to find Sara," Alex finally said. "She needs to know."

"Yeah," Claire agreed reluctantly. She had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

Sara was in a state of shock.

Claire and Alex had filled her in on the details on their way back from school. A Nephilim. She'd read about them only recently, in one of the many books Sam had let her borrow from the bunker. They were immensely powerful, hence their rarity – few had ever existed, fewer survived, and even fewer had been recorded by the Men of Letters.

The child of two different species. Born with promises of devastating power. Suddenly everyone was on the hunt for it, either to keep it safe or to use it or to . . . to put it down. The child wasn't even born and it was already in danger, and bringing danger to those around it. Its power was already being measured and it hadn't even grown a conscious yet. The child was frightening, and dangerous, and . . .

Exactly like her.

And they were going to kill it.

"We'll find a way," Sam had assured her over the phone just moments ago. "We don't even know what we're dealing with yet. We don't know how to go about it, but there's gotta be something. Maybe we're overlooking something in the lore, or maybe there's a chance it won't have powers, or . . ."

Comforting words, that's all they were. The child was going to die and Sam was trying to pretend like it wasn't.

Typical. The Winchesters, always playing the hero.

"Hey."

Sara looked up from where she sat on the basement steps, turning the phone over in her hands. The basement was her own private little sanctuary – the girls had outfitted it as a hunter's paradise. There were bookshelves, some exercise equipment, a work table, everything a hunter in training could need. Sara often locked herself down here while feeling anger, but now she was just hiding. So to find Mary Winchester coming down the steps surprised her.

"Mary," she greeted her. "I didn't even realize you were here."

"I was in the area, and Jody said she could help me with some things," Mary replied, sitting on a step. "I'm not very good with technology. At all – half the time I can't get my computer to work." She hesitated. "And, to be honest, I've sat on it a few times – it's so small I forget it's there. Don't tell Sam."

Sara smiled, glancing back down at the phone as she fidgeted.

Mary was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke, she did so carefully. "My boys told me what happened. About Lucifer and his baby. That's a tough situation."

"It's incredibly simple, I'm afraid," Sara disagreed, sighing. "The baby is too threatening. Too much power. I already know what the choices in dealing with it are going to be, and I already know what choice will be made."

Mary looked conflicted. Her hunter side had to agree – the idea of the child of Satan _was_ threatening. But the mother side of her saw an abandoned little girl who'd gone through something very similar.

"Your father . . ." Mary started slowly, and Sara looked at her curiously. "He's got quite the reputation. I won't lie to you, he was well known during my own hunter years, and not for good things. But . . . Sara, as harsh as this is going to sound, you were an accident. You weren't conceived just to be an instrument of destruction and pain. This . . . thing, inside Kelly Kline? It was."

"I know," Sara whispered, eyes misty as she imagined the type of life the child would live if it were born. "And that's what's killing me. I know the baby is all wrong and if it's born things will never be the same. I know what sort of danger we're facing. But part of me . . . part of me wants to give it a chance, to let it try being good." She shook her head. "Then I remember I can't even do that myself," she laughed bitterly. "You're right, Mary. I wasn't conceived for destruction or pain – but I sure am good at bringing it anyway."

"You're not _bad_ , Sara," Mary said, gingerly laying a hand on the girls shoulder. "I saw you that day, all those weeks ago with the Men of Letters. You saved my sons – you saved _me_. You spared that woman's life."

"It was hard," Sara admitted, quietly, laying her head in her hands. "I didn't want to. I thought she deserved to die. I still do, a bit."

Mary was silent for a few moments. Then, very quietly, she said, "Me too."

Sara looked at her disbelief for a long moment before hugging the woman, wrapping her arms around her neck and closing her eyes. Mary reacted as a mother, holding her and stroking her hair for a few moments.

"That's the most honest anyone's been with me," Sara whispered, and she pulled away. "Everyone is walking on eggshells around me. They think I'm a bomb."

"You're not a bomb," Mary promised, tucking some of Sara's hair behind her ear. "You're just a kid. Everyone was a kid once. You're just a different kind of person and people don't know how to deal with it. There are humans who'll try to connect with human part of you, and demons who'll try to connect with the demon part. But there's no one to connect with the Sara part."

"Yes," Sara sighed in relief, glad someone was able to put what she was feeling into words. "Yes, that's exactly right. I . . . what do I do?"

"Do what's right," Mary said simply. "Even if it doesn't feel like it, sometimes the obvious answer is the right one. You just have to accept the answer."

Sara considered this, and nodded slowly, looking at Mary.

"You're right," she agreed. "The obvious answer . . . it _is_ the right answer. We have to find Kelly Kline. And we have to end this."

Mary squeezed Sara's shoulder. "It'll be hard, but I know you can make it through this."

"Thanks, Mary," Sara said earnestly.

"No problem," Mary assured her, standing. "I'd better go see how Jody's doing. She said something about my computer having a virus – what does that even _mean_?"

Sara chuckled as Mary left, before standing and walking towards the bookshelf. She paused, reaching for the most well-worn book – a leather-bound record of demons, their powers, and how they worked.

Sara knew what had to be done. But first she had to prepare.


	19. Chapter 19

**I'm a little ahead of schedule, so I thought I'd treat you guys to a little present and give you two chapters tonight! This is sorta the halfway point of the series, so I feel like you guys deserve it for hanging in there. I can't wait to see your reactions and I hope you all review and let me know what you think! Here we go!**

 **Part 1 of 2:**

* * *

"Look at you girls!"

Jody squealed happily, snapping picture after picture on her phone as Claire, Alex, and Sara gathered in the living room. Claire was leaning over, tying on a pair of ridiculously high heeled boots. She stood, tossing her various intricate braids – a hairstyle she had described as 'full-on badass Khalessi' – over her shoulder. Alex was attempting to help Kevin with his tie, the young former prophet falling over his words to tell Alex how pretty she looked, and Alex blushing bright pink. Sara was putting in a pair of ruby earrings on loan from Rowena, checking her curls in the mirror once more.

"I remember my senior homecoming dance," Mary said fondly, leaning against the wall and sipping on a beer. "My date wore a god awful powder-blue suit."

"I met my husband at my first freshman dance," Jody agreed, taking a break from snapping pictures to reminisce.

"Well, there were no school dances where I came from," Rowena said, gracefully sitting on a dining room chair and sipping from a glass of red wine. "But I did attend a ball with Ferdinand VII. Oh, the look on his wife's face." She chuckled, sipping from her glass. "Priceless."

"A whore is a whore is a whore," Crowley remarked bitterly from where he'd just appeared behind the women in the dining room, startling Mary and making Fergus jump up and run circles around the demon king.

Rowena pursed her lips, not bothering to turn around. "Fergus, darling, won't you be a dear and fetch mummy some more wine?" she demanded sweetly, holding the glass towards him. The hellhound barked at the name he had become accustomed to, and Crowley rolled his eyes, ignoring his mother and stepping around her.

"I've been hearing that line since I could walk," he replied. "And the answer is still the same –"

"Ah, ah," Rowena cut him off. "Watch your language in front of the ladies."

Crowley approached Sara, examining his daughter. "Beautiful, just like your mother," he remarked with a small smile, and Sara beamed.

"Or her grandmother," Rowena interjected.

Crowley's smile didn't falter. "Like your mother," he repeated, kissing his temple. He glanced at Kevin, rolling his eyes. "For hell's sake, Kevin, who taught you how to tie a tie? Come here, you little prat."

"I tried," Alex grumbled as Kevin reluctantly approached his (former? He still wasn't really sure) enemy, allowing the King of Hell to fix the tie.

"This is so domestic, I love it," Claire remarked, fixing her makeup quickly in the living room mirror.

There was a knock at the door, and Sara practically jumped from her seat on the couch. "Scott's here!" she said excitedly, heading for the door.

Crowley frowned, turning. "Scott?"

"People generally take dates to these functions, Fergus," Rowena rolled her eyes.

Crowley's eyes narrowed. " _Dates?_ "

Sara opened the door, blinking in surprise. "Cas," she said, stepping aside to allow the angel entrance. He was holding a small box in his hands, and hesitated before entering the room.

"Hello, Sara," Castiel greeted her. "You look very nice."

"Thanks," she smiled. "It's good to see you."

"Hey, Cas," Claire greeted him, joining Sara. "How's the hunt for, y'know, the President going?"

"It's not really a hunt," Cas admitted. "The most infuriating part is that we know exactly where he is – we just can't get to him."

"You'll figure something out," Sara promised, squeezing his shoulder. "You always do." She went to rejoin the others, leaving Cas and Claire standing in the foyer.

"So, what's up?" Claire asked. "Did you come to get help for a case? Because give me five minutes and I can change and totally blow this off if you need me."

"No, I . . ." Castiel hesitated. "I've been reading on the social interactions between teenagers," he began.

"Riveting," Claire grinned. "Let me know when you get to memes."

"I wanted to get a better understanding of how things work for kids your age," he admitted. "And when I read about school functions, I learned that it's common for girls to wear flowers on their wrists to school dances. I know they're usually given by the dates, and I know that Gavin couldn't come, but I didn't want you to feel excluded. So, ah . . ."

He held the box out to her, and Claire simply stared at it for a moment before gingerly taking it, lifting the lid and examining the delicate band of bright orange daylily's and blue silk ribbon. She bit her lip, feeling tears rise to her eyes.

"You don't have to wear it," Castiel assured her quickly. "I just wanted to do something for you. I know I haven't been around lately, and –"

He was cut off as Claire suddenly threw her arms around him, and he hesitated for a moment before returning the hug.

"I love it, you idiot," Claire sniffed, squeezing him for a moment before stepping away. "Cas, this is . . . this is so nice. Thank you."

Castiel looked pleased, and Claire made him come inside with all the others. Sara helped Claire put her corsage on, as Kevin helped Alex with the purple orchid corsage he'd picked for her. Jody and Mary were watching, faces smiling at the sweetness of it all. Rowena stroked Fergus's head as the hound watched everything with a tilted head. Crowley was unusually quiet, and he had been since the word 'date' had been mentioned.

More pictures were taken – including a picture of Claire and Cas, something she had suggested and that had touched Castiel, and the most awkward family photo of Sara with her father and grandmother, to name a few – when there was another knock on the door.

Sara looked at the clock – seven o'clock. "Right on time," she said. She looked at her sisters nervously. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful," Alex assured her.

"Bangin'," Claire promised.

Sara nodded and, stomach turning with butterflies, went to the door. She opened, smiling brilliantly at Scott. He was wearing a suit with a vest that matched the color of Sara's dress, and was also holding a small box.

"Hi," Sara breathed.

"Wow," Scott said, glancing over her, eyes widened. "You look beautiful. I mean, you look beautiful all the time, but – wow."

"I'm an artist," Rowen remarked quietly at her handiwork, smugly sipping her wine.

"Come on in," Sara said, blushing. "My, uh, most of my family is here," she continued, walking him all the way into the living room.

"That's great," Scott assured her. "Sheriff Mills. You have a lovely home."

"Thanks, Scott," Jody smiled politely.

"So, ah, this is Kevin, Alex's boyfriend," Sara began introductions. "This is Cas, and Mary, they're some family friends . . . my grandmother, Rowena . . ."

"Grandmother?" Scott raised his eyebrows, looking shocked.

"Thank you, dear," Rowena said sweetly, her smug smile growing.

As she stopped stroking Fergus, the hellhound noticed the intruder, and jumped to his feet. He snarled, fur standing on end and teeth bared at Scott, who took a quick few steps back.

"No, Fergus!" Sara scolded. The hound stopped moving, but continued to growl angrily.

"Heel," Crowley commanded. _For now_ , he mentally added, and Fergus reluctantly obeyed, stalking away to sit obediently by the king.

"Sorry," Sara apologized. "He doesn't usually get so upset over guests, he's just excited is all."

"What kind of dog is that?" Scott asked in a sort of strangled voice.

"Pit bull," Sara said.

"Rottweiler," Claire said at the same time.

"Bullmastiff," Jody was also saying.

"Satan," Kevin was adding, but no one caught it except for Alex, who tried to hide a grin and elbowed him in the ribs.

Sara hesitated after everyone's spontaneous answer. "He's a mix," she finally said. Her father cleared his throat, and Sara suddenly felt very nervous, growing pink. "Right," she said, swallowing. "Ah, Scott, this is my dad, Crowley."

"Your – your dad?" Scott raised his eyebrows, glancing at the intimidating man who had come to stand by Sara. He certainly didn't look happy, and despite his short stature and rather professional appearance, he gave off a threatening energy. Scott cleared his throat, holding out his hand. "It's good to meet you, sir."

Crowley didn't budge for a moment, until Rowena loudly cleared her throat and the demon rolled his eyes, quickly shaking Scott's hand. Crowley hadn't been feeling particularly murderous that evening, but he didn't like the idea of anyone so much as looking at his daughter, nonetheless dancing with her and holding her and – god forbid – doing anything else.

Sara coughed into her hand, catching Crowley's attention, and he realized she was giving him a stern ' _be polite!'_ look.

"Yes," Crowley finally said. "Shall I have Camille or Roland drive you, darling?" he asked, returning his attention to Sara.

"That's okay, Scott's going to drive," Sara said, smiling at the boy.

"Is he now?" Crowley was disliking this more and more by the minute. His daughter had battled Lucifer, withstood torture for days, and was currently the part-time ruler of the kingdom of Hell – so why the hell was Crowley so worried about an eighteen year old boy?

 _Because he's an eighteen year old boy, you moron,_ he told himself.

Scott was fastening Sara's corsage – a circle of red roses – onto her wrist, and Crowley watched with disdain. He stepped backwards to stand by Claire.

"Keep an eye on them," he said quietly without looking away from Sara.

"I'll be pretty busy, what with all the dancing and everything," Claire said innocently, also concentrating on the others.

Crowley rolled his eyes, reaching into his suit and removing a hundred dollars from him wallet. He discreetly handed it to Claire, who plucked in from his hand and tucked it into her dress.

"Sucker," she said, clapping him on the shoulder. "I woulda done it for fifty." She left to join the others, and Crowley glared after him. Damn. He liked that girl, the little brat.

Crowley and Castiel exchanged nervous looks. "What?" Crowley grumbled. "At least _yours_ doesn't have a date."

"Need I remind you that when she does, it's with your son?" the angel retorted, and Crowley grimaced.

"Please don't," he replied.

He joined the others Jody as took her last pictures. Crowley laid his hand on Sara's arm, leaning down and kissing her forehead. "Be home by ten."

"Crowley, let them have their fun," Jody argued.

"You're only young once," Mary agreed.

Crowley sighed reluctantly. "Fine. But . . . Be safe."

Sara smiled. "I'll see you later," she promised waving at the adults as she and the others left. Crowley walked onto the porch, watching as Claire got behind the wheel of the Chevelle, Alex and Kevin getting in as well. Sara was going to stand beside Scott's car, but before Scott could continue, Crowley caught him by the back of his jacket.

"My daughter," he began, speaking in an eerily calm, low voice to the suddenly very nervous boy. "Is the _only_ thing I care about – and I mean that quite literally. That gives a man a dangerous edge. If anything were to happen to her – and I mean _anything_ – I would be very cross. Do I make myself clear?"

"Y-yes sir," Scott swallowed, eyes widened slightly. "Absolutely."

"Good." He released him. "Enjoy your evening."

Scott hastily made his way to the truck, fumbling to open Sara's door for her. Claire honked and waved, calling "see you guys there!" as she left the driveway, followed by Scott and Sara moments later.

Crowley watched as they disappeared down the road, hands in his pockets and face seriously ominous. His mother approached, standing beside him for a few long moments.

"Don't worry," she started. "If he does anything stupid . . ." she shrugged. "We'll just kill him."

For once, Crowley could appreciate his mother, agreeing with her sentiment.

* * *

Sara had outdone herself.

The gymnasium of the high school was completely transformed. She'd spent all day and the day before that at the gym, helping to set up and oversee preparations. She'd hung the gossamer, set up the tables, she even helped the DJ set up – all while Tara sat around, of course, because she couldn't risk breaking a nail! She'd had them specially done for the dance!

As soon as they entered the school, Tara had waltzed right up to Sara and Scott, giving a dazzling smile.

"I have to admit, Evans, it doesn't look half bad in here," she said. "And you look _so cute_. Hi, Scott," she said, turning her attention to the handsome football player and batting her eyelashes. "You look great, too."

"Thanks," Scott said politely. "Sara, do you want a drink?"

"Just a bottled water, thanks," she said, and Scott nodded and went to get her one.

"Alright, listen," Tara said as soon as he was out of earshot. She crossed her arms over her overly-revealing pink dress, her expression changing from one of pseudo-sweetness to staring daggers. "You might think that just because you put in so much work to impress him, he'll stick around. But remember, he dated _me_ first."

"He dumped you, too, didn't he?" Sara asked innocently.

Tara narrowed her eyes. "We had an argument. Apparently he took it more serious than I did. I'm just asking you nicely to step aside. We both know Scott and I are going to win homecoming court, and he's going to realize where he went wrong. I just want you to be prepared, in case he doesn't let you down easy."

"God, it smells like a French whore house in here," Claire complained loudly as she entered the gym with Alex and Kevin. "Oh, my bad, it's just a bitch. Y'know, Tara, perfume is so expensive because you're only supposed to use a little bit at a time."

"You've got nerve showing up here," Tara smiled. "Twenty bucks says you won't even make it onto the stage for them to announce homecoming queen. Be a shame if someone pulled a _Carrie_ on you."

"Well, I've got a hundred on my boot meeting your face before the end of the evening," Claire said just as sweetly. "That nose-job is a little crooked – want me to straighten it out or you?"

Tara sneered before walking away, self-consciously touching her nose. Scott returned, handing Sara her drink. She smiled and sipped it, nervous – this was her first time doing anything like this, after all, and Tara was already out to ruin it for her.

"Want to dance?" Scott asked, and Sara enthusiastically agreed – for the first time in a long time, she wasn't some half-demon freak, she wasn't running or fighting for her life or ruling over the underworld. She was just a girl, dancing with a boy at a school dance, and being a kid.

It felt almost too perfect.


	20. Chapter 20

**I want to thank you all again for being so patient! I think this is the moment a lot of you have been waiting for. I'm super excited to share it with you - it's a long one! I'll update again soon! Don't forget to review and let me know what you think.**

 **Part 2 of 2.**

* * *

But it _was_ perfect. Sara was having the time of her life, dancing with Scott and her friends. She enjoyed everything about the evening – she enjoyed watching everyone dancing, and laughing, and just having fun. She watched with amusement as Claire tried to teach Kevin how to Dougie. Scott tried to help, but Alex and Sara were too busy practically crying at Kevin's horrific dancing to lend any advice of their own. Sara let Scott teach her how to slow dance, and blushed violently at getting to stand so close to him as he held her to the rhythm of the music. Even listening to Claire complain about the music (i.e., the lack of Zeppelin) was fun for Sara. Everything was so unbelievably normal.

Halfway through the dance she found herself parched, and made her way to the snack table. The caterers were putting out finger foods and more punch, and Sara smiled at the tall man behind the table.

"Just a water, please," she requested.

The man raised his eyebrows, put removed a water from the cooler and handed it to her. "Your water will put us out of business," he joked, and Sara noticed with surprise that he was English, as well.

She shrugged sheepishly. "We have a diabetic kid in our class who isn't supposed to have any sugar, so I thought I'd supply something everyone could have."

"How thoughtful," the man said, smiling, though it didn't seem to quite reach his eyes. He handed her the water. "I do hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

Sara politely returned the smile, taking the water and catching a glimpse of something on the back of the man's hand – a tattoo? Why did that sound familiar?

She shrugged it off – she'd probably just seen him before when she let the caterers in earlier – and returned to her friends. She took a few drinks of water before setting it down by the shoes she'd kicked off earlier.

"So your Dad seemed . . . nice," Scott said as they returned to slow dancing.

"He can be a little intimidating," Sara said apologetically. "We've only just found each other . . . until a year ago I didn't even know I had a father. Now that we have each other, he can be a little . . . protective."

"Well, it's great that you guys found each other," Scott smiled. Sara smiled too, staring up into his big blue eyes.

 _Do it,_ she silently urged him. _Come on, I'm standing right here, just kiss me already . . ._

Scott started to lean forward, and Sara's breath caught as he gently pressed his lips to hers. She'd never been kissed before, not a real kiss, and she felt herself turn bright pink as she returned to sweet, short kiss. When Scott pulled away she felt like she was floating. Her first kiss – her first real kiss, with a real boy in a real school . . .

"Ladies and gentleman, it's time for this year's homecoming court to take the stage," the principal announced. The gym was suddenly abuzz with excitement. Scott smiled at Sara.

"See you up there," he said, and Sara nodded. She found Claire, grabbing her hand and pulling her onto the stage, next to Tara and Kelly Wu, the other nominees. Claire picked at her dress, not liking being up in front of so many people at once.

"Do I really need to be up here for this?" she whispered to Sara.

"Yes," Sara whispered back, squeezing her hand.

"Should I throw rose petals when you win?" Claire asked. "Really piss of Tara? Oh my God, should I take a picture of her face? I'm taking a picture of her face."

"And this year's Sioux Falls High School homecoming king is . . ." the principal made a show of opening the envelope, before smiling widely. "Scott Copeland!"

Everyone in the gym cheered, and Tara looked smug as she began to fix her hair. Scott took the sash and crown sheepishly, and Sara grinned at him.

"And now," the principal continued, opening the second envelope. "Your Sioux Falls High School Homecoming Princess is . . ." he frowned, blinking a few times, before quickly forcing himself to smile. "Claire Novak!"

" _What?!_ " Tara screamed.

"What?!" Claire exclaimed, halfway between laughter and disbelief.

"Go!" Sara said, pushing her sister towards the principal, who placed the tiara on her head and draped the sash over her. Scott was laughing, laying a hand on Claire's shoulder and congratulating her – not that it could be heard over the extreme roar of cheers from the other students.

Sara sat with Alex and Kevin at a table as Scott and Claire had an honorary dance. Scott made polite chit chat, sensing Claire's nervousness, and Claire grinned at something he said before grinning at Sara, too.

Alex was smiling. "She is _never_ gonna let us live this down."

"Nope," Sara agreed. "It's going to be Queen Claire for the next six months."

The dance ended, and the warmth of the gym filled with people was becoming a bit much for Sara. She fanned herself with her hand, and Scott noticed, getting her attention by laying his hand on her wrist.

"Want to get some air?" he called over the music.

"Sure," Sara called back.

"I'll grab some drinks and meet you out there," Scott promised. Sara told Alex where she was going, slipped her shoes on, and headed outside to the quad. It was a beautiful night – warm for October, but the air was still crisp. The trees in the woods that lined the school swayed gently and the stars were bright under the sliver of moon hanging in the sky. The music from the school could be heard from outside, and Sara smiled. She had been so certain something would go wrong – the decorations wouldn't be right or the DJ would cancel or, god forbid, Tara would've won homecoming queen – but no, everything was just right.

She wondered if this was what life was like for regular people every day.

"Hey," Scott said, joining her and smiling. He handed Sara a cup of punch. "They were out of water," he explained, sipping his own drink.

"This is fine, thank you," Sara smiled.

"Want to go for a walk?"

"Sure," Sara said, and blushed when Scott offered her hand. They walked along the nature path beside the school, the long dirt lane winding around the school and down towards the football field. They walked slowly, talking about school and family.

"Claire looked super surprised," Scott laughed.

"She was," Sara agreed, also laughing. "She doesn't understand how popular she is. Everyone loves someone willing to stand up for others. I think that's why my brother fell for her."

"Gavin, right?" Scott asked.

"Mm-hm. My brother on my dads side."

"Your family seems really nice."

Sara thought foundly of her family, everyone from Claire and Alex, to Jody, to her dad and brother, and to the boys.

"Yeah," she admitted. "I love them. Your sister is still at South Dakota University, isn't she?"

"Yep, my big sister," Scott nodded. "She plays basketball there. That's probably where I'll go, too – football scholarship."

"That's great!" Sara smiled brightly. "When did you find out?"

"Just yesterday. They offered me a full ride."

"Scott, that's fantastic news!" she exclaimed.

Scott smiled. "I really like how excited you get," he shook his head. "For other people. Your sister winning homecoming queen, me getting the scholarship . . . but what do you want to do? What's exciting for Sara Evans? What do you want to do when you're done with school?"

"I don't really know," she admitted. "I've never thought much about my future. Until recently, I've always just been concerned with living day by day." She thought about it for a moment. "I suppose I just . . . want to help people. I don't know how yet."

"You'll do it," Scott assured her, brushing some hair from her face.

Sara blushed, smiling. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You're special, Sara."

Sara felt butterflies, and suddenly felt very parched. She realized she still had her drink in her hand, completely forgotten about. Too flustered to think of anything witty or even really coherent to say, she distracted herself by take a few quick gulps of the punch.

As soon as she did she realized it was a mistake. Her throat was suddenly on fire, burning from the inside out, and working down into her stomach. Her entire body lurched with pain and she gasped, clutching her throat, unable to scream or cry out or even breathe properly.

"Sara?!" Scott caught her as her knees began to give out, terrified as tears streamed from her eyes and burned into her skin. Her skin was unnaturally hot, almost burning his own skin as he touched her arm, watching in horror as she gasped and clutched her chest.

"The drink," she rasped, trying to fight through the pain and force herself to stand. It wasn't quite as bad as the injections, but she was far too familiar with this feeling. She'd been poisoned. "Where did it come from?"

"I – I got it from the counter, I saw the guy pour it and everything! Are you having an allergic reaction?!" Scott's eyes were wide.

"Go!" Sara coughed, grabbing the fence and trying to pull herself up. "You need to go!"

"I can go get help!" he said. "But you have to come with me, I can't leave you like this."

"I'd listen to her, if I were you, boy," said a voice from behind them, startling them. Sara was breathing heavily, desperately trying to draw breath and fight the spreading pain inside her. Squinting through the tears and the agony, she noticed the man from before, the one with the tattoo on his hand.

English. Holy water. Sara suddenly put two and two together – _stupid, stupid, how was I too stupid to notice?!_

"What do you people _want_?" she demanded, forcing herself to stand – a difficult task as she was still shaking from the holy water in her system, and she was wearing heels. But her father had taught her to never show how weak you really were - fake it 'til you make it, and all that.

"I'm only here to clean up Lady Bevell's mess," he assured her. "Arthur Ketch. You must be the Cambion."

"What's going on?" Scott demanded, holding Sara up. "Who the hell are you? What did you do to her?"

"Your friend isn't who she says she is," the man informed Scott calmly. "All that holy water in the entire batch of punch, and only one has an allergic reaction to it. What does that say, really?" He looked smug. "Your friend is a monster."

"S-Sara?" Scott looked at Sara, suddenly very nervous about the fact that her skin was literally steaming. He loosened his grip on her a bit.

"I don't want to fight you," Sara ground out through her teeth, her eyes level with Ketch's.

"I don't think you can," he replied, and all that did was piss Sara off. With a desperate shout, she thrust her hands out, a wave of heavy, dark energy erupting from her. Ketch was caught off guard, and stumbled back a bit. But after a moment he stood, dusting his jacket off.

"It was a good try," he said. "But I've been training for a lot longer than you. Now," he continued, sliding an angel blade from his sleeve. "Convince your little friend to run along, else I'll be cleaning up two messes tonight."

Sara knew she had a temper, and damned if Arthur Ketch wasn't testing it. Threats never sat well with Sara, and after remembering what these people had done to her – to Sam – she got even angrier. Ketch took a step forward, and Sara held her hand up, stopping him in his tracks. He raised his eyebrows.

"Impressive," he admitted. He took one slow step forward, pushing the wave of energy back onto the Sara. She clenched her jaw, fighting against her own barrier as Ketch continued to move slowly through her power. Full of last minute desperation, she lifted her hand, attempting to grab his blade.

"Don't," he said, tone almost bored as he delivered a heavy back handed slap to Sara's face, sending her to the ground. She couldn't stop it now – the same fury she'd felt that day in the farmhouse in Missouri was rising up inside of her. If this guy kept pushing, she wouldn't be able to keep a lid on it – and that could be dangerous for everyone.

"Sara!" Scott leaned beside her, helping her up. Sara rubbed her stinging check, not wanting to open her eyes but not having any choice. She felt her eyes flicker as she grasped onto her pent up aggression.

Scott let go, moving away when he noticed her eyes. "What the hell?"

"Ah," Ketch smiled. "There she is."

Sara stood again, but was greeted by a fist to the stomach. She tumbled to the ground, her clutch falling beside her. Her phone spilled from the bag, and she shakily reached for it. She cried out as a heavy foot stepped on her hand, pinning it to the ground.

"Oh, no," Ketch told her. "We won't be calling daddy this evening." He smiled smugly, using his other foot to crush Sara's phone. "Don't worry. I've arranged for some particularly loud music to be played for the next, oh, twenty minutes or so. No one will even hear your demise."

Sara used every ounce of willpower she had to yank her hand away, forcing herself not to scream. Things were getting worse by the minute, but this time she was ready – when Ketch attacked she dodged quickly, moving out of the way and slamming her elbow into his chest as she passed by him. She delivered a swift quick to the back of his knee, sending him stumbling forward. He found his footing and turned, swinging the blade. It caught Sara in the arm, hardly grazing her, but still sending a sharp sensation of burning pain up her arm as the wound glowed bright red and gold for a moment.

 _You've been practicing,_ she reminded herself. _Try it now._

She glanced at the blade Ketch held, concentrating, and Ketch frowned before yelling in pain, dropping the blade as it glowed white hot. With a wave of her hand, Sara sent the blade flying away. She turned back to Ketch, waving her hand again, this time picking the man up and slamming him against a tree. She moved toward him, lifting her hand.

Ketch's heart was in her hand – she could feel it, beating quickly against her palm. He watched carefully, with a hint of fear, as she approached him, squeezing her fist a bit and making Ketch grunt in pain. He coughed, droplets of blood flying from his mouth as he glowered at Sara.

"Go ahead," he told her, spitting blood on the ground at her feet. "Martyr me to my people. Prove what you are – you're a monster, and you'll always be a monster. Just like your father."

 _It'd be easy_ , said a voice in the back of her head that sounded suspiciously similar to a certain arch angel _. So easy. One good squeeze and he's a goner. Probably won't even feel a thing._

 _Get out,_ Sara ground her teeth.

 _Maybe I'm not even here. Maybe I'm just a manifestation of your guilty imagination, and your desire to kill, kill, kill, stab, stab, stab. Maybe I'm_ you _._

 _Are you?_

 _Ha. No._

Sara glanced at Ketch, gasping for breath beneath her, and at her hand. She gave one last squeeze, just to see the fear, the actual _oh-my-god-she's-actually-bloody-doing-it_ look in his eyes, before releasing him. Ketch gasped for air, falling onto his back.

Sara turned away, finding Scott cowering several feet away. Sara approached, and he scrambled away.

Sara frowned, and blinked a few times, her eyes returning to their normal brown. "Scott . . ."

"What the hell are you?" he demanded, and any admiration or feelings he may have had for Sara were gone from his eyes, replaced only by fear and . . .

Disgust.

"I'm not . . . I won't hurt you," Sara tried, but Scott stepped away. Sara fought back tears, hurt, and reached for him, but he flinched away.

"No, don't – don't touch me," he snapped. "You – I don't know what you are. You – you're a freak, Sara."

"Scott, please," she begged, fighting back a sob. _No. No no no no no. This isn't happening this can't be happening please don't let this be happening._

"Stay away from me!" his eyes darted to something behind her, and he hesitated. His hesitation made Sara frown, and turn, seeing two men clad in black emerge from the treeline, weapons trained on Sara. Scott darted away, making a run for it, and Sara was suddenly caught somewhere between fear and unbelievable heartache.

"Shoot to kill," Ketch commanded, struggling to his feet. "See if that puts her down."

The bullets sprayed from the guns, and without thinking, Sara deflected them, sending them right back to those who shot. She cried out in pain as she felt a bullet rip through her arm, but she was suddenly too horrified to even feel the physical pain.

The first man was hit in the chest and the leg by the deflected bullets, and fell to the ground instantly. The other was hit in the neck, arms, and chest and he stumbled for a moment, staring at Sara as the light drained from his desperately pleading eyes.

"No!" Sara screamed, horrified. _I killed them. I killed them, they're dead._ She could feel bile rising in her stomach and her knees give out under the pressure of the horrible thing she'd just done. She fell to her knees, catching herself from falling completely as the gravity of the situation weighed down on her. All this time, all this training to keep something like this from happening, and it happened just like that. In less than two seconds two men were dead, and it was her fault.

She felt the barrel of Ketch's pistol on the back of her head, and heard the hammer being pulled back. Even if she had the strength to fight physically, mentally she was unable to keep going. Part of her was ready to accept her fate. She'd just killed two men who were only acting on orders. If this was how it was supposed to end, well . . . maybe it would at least be quick.

But the other part of her wanted to fight, and to win. She struggled to stand, and Ketch pressed the barrel against her harder.

There was a loud gunshot, and Sara squeezed her eyes closed for a moment before realizing it hadn't come from Ketch's gun.

"That was a warning shot," a familiar voice said, along with the cocking of a shotgun. "There won't be a second."

Sara looked up, not understanding what was happening, but never ever having been so relieved to see Ben Braeden - especially since he was toting a shotgun.

"Drop the gun, Nancy," Ben told Ketch, and annoyed, Ketch did so. Sara knew she had to do something. She forced herself up, trying to ignore the pain and giant hole in her left arm. Summoning all of her strength, demon and otherwise, she hauled off and punched Ketch in the face. He collapsed, unconscious, and Sara exhaled.

"We need to go," Ben said, looking around. "Now."

Sara couldn't argue with him. She followed, stomach churning.

 _Scott saw them . . . he was going to let them shoot me._

She suddenly felt even sicker.

She followed Ben to his Impala, and he helped her into the passenger side, careful not to bump her arm. Then he threw the shotgun in the back seat and got into the driver's seat, peeling out of the parking lot.

"You need to text someone and let them know you're okay?" he asked, watching the rearview mirror to make sure they weren't being followed.

"My phone got trashed," Sara muttered. "We need to find someplace to pull over."

"I know a place. You think Douchbag McAsshat is gonna follow us?" Ben asked, still casting continuous glances in the mirrors.

"No. I think he'll go back to his lair or whatever and regroup. I . . . I killed two of his men."

"I saw what happened." He shook his head. "You were defending yourself. That asshole of a boyfriend of yours was just going to let them shoot you, too. I'm glad I made it back to my car and got the gun before they could." He looked at her arm. "You need to go to a hospital."

"No, it's okay," Sara said through clenched teeth. "I think I can . . . I've been practicing." She took a deep breath, making a fist and foucising all of her energy towards the wound. Slowly, the bullet pulled itself from her body, dropping to the floor of the Impala. Sara's flesh and muscle slowly began to weave back together until the wound was just an ugly, dark bruise on her skin.

Sara released the breath she was holding, spots dancing in front of her eyes. Healing took a ton of power even for high ranking demons. Sure, it wasn't perfect, and it still hurt, but she'd take it over a large gaping hole.

Ben shook his head in awe. "Don't 'spose I can learn to do that." He frowned, nodding at her shoulder. "That one's not healing."

"I can't do angel blade wounds," Sara said.

"Oh, right, silly me."

Sara glanced at him, amused, before realizing exactly what had just happened, where she was, and who she was with.

"Ben," she said. "What the hell were you doing there?"

"I came for that dance you owed me." He shot her a winning grin before looking back at the road. "I saw you and your boyfriend –"

" _So_ not my boyfriend. Especially now."

"Well, I saw you two, and then I saw the fight. You kicked ass back there."

Sara took a deep breath, holding her hands in her lap, and staring down at them. "Go ahead."

"Go ahead, what?"

"Go ahead. Ask me what I am, how did I do that, what's wrong with me, blah blah."

"I know what's wrong with you," Ben said simply. "You're a total weirdo." He glanced at Sara. "But so am I, so it doesn't matter."

The honesty was . . . refreshing. Sara smiled lightly.

"But I mean, yeah. I did just see you force choke that dickwad. Which was cool and all, but I mean . . . what the hell, Evans?"

Sara laughed. "You really wouldn't believe me."

Ben tightened his hand on the wheel, staring forward. "You know . . . I know there are things out there. I've known since I was a kid. I just _pretended_ like I didn't know. For a long time. But that never works, so I learned to accept it. Whatever you are – and you don't have to tell me – I just want you to know I'm not scared of you."

Sara stared at him, in shock. "R-really?" she asked in disbelief.

"You held back on that guy even though he tried to _murder_ you. You didn't want to kill him, and you didn't mean to kill those other guys, either." He was following a steep gravel road up a hill, and Sara noticed they had come to the top of a hill. High above Sioux Falls, the town was visible in the distance, the lights beautiful specks on the horizon.

"What is this place?" Sara asked as Ben parked.

"It's an old scenic overlook. I found it my first week here, we don't live too far from here. But it's always quiet and I've never seen anyone here." He frowned, examining her arm. "You sure you don't need a hospital?"

Sara shook her head. "It's just a graze. But . . . I do need to make a call."

"You can use mine," Ben said, fishing his phone out of his pocket and handing it to Sara. She smiled her thanks, and stepped out of the car, dialing.

Roland answered on the second ring. "Who is this?"

"Roland," Sara said, swallowing. "It's Sara."

"My apologies, your highness. I didn't recognize the number."

"No, it's fine. Listen, something happened, and . . . and my phone got broke, but that's not why I'm calling. At my school, there are . . ." she swallowed the lump in her throat. "There are two bodies, out by the woods. I need them to disappear, quickly."

"Of course. Will there be anything else?" the demon asked, not even fazed. It was his job to clean up the big messes.

"Yes. Claire and Alex are still at the school, at the dance. Find one of them, and tell them that I'm alright, and I'll see them at home. Please," she added.

"Yes, your majesty."

Sara hung up, sitting down heavily on a bench and cradling her head in her hands. Worst. Night. Ever.

"So," Ben said, and Sara looked up, noticing him standing in front of her. He stood, relaxed, hands in his pockets. "You've got spooky scary powers, you're able to beat up men twice your size, and you've got a body cleanup crew on speed dial."

Sara sighed. "It's complicated."

"Did that guy call you 'your majesty'?"

" _Really_ complicated."

Ben sat beside her, gently lifting her arm and frowning. "Geez, you're hot."

"Thanks," Sara retorted with a grin.

"No. Well, yeah. That too. But I mean literally." He felt her forehead. "You're burning up."

"I was poisoned," Sara admitted. "I'll have a fever for a few days, until it works its way out of my system."

"You are _way_ too calm about this." Ben raised his eyebrows, though, opening a first aid kit he'd had in his trunk and removing some alcohol and gauze. He realized that Sara was being quiet and put two and two together. "You've gone through this before?"

Sara hesitated. "That man . . . I've had a run in with the organization he works for before. It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience." She bit her lip as Ben dabbed at the cut on her arm with the alcohol, trying not to cry out in pain. He began to wrap it with gauze, still frowning.

"Does all this have to do with that headache you got?"

Sara blinked, surprised he remembered that – that was weeks ago. But then she remembered, he had mentioned it a few days before as well - apparently he paid more attention than she gave him credit for. "Yes," she admitted. "Sort of. You said that you know that there are things out there. How much do you know?"

"Not a lot," he shrugged, finishing wrapping her arm and taping the gauze in place. "But my life has always been kinda weird. My mom and I . . . we have spots in our memories that are just gone. Things that we should remember, but we don't. Days or weeks are just missing. Sometimes we'll find something that doesn't belong to us, it's just there. We have these dreams but they don't make sense." He shook his head. "I started looking into it when I was around fifteen. Mom pretends it's not happening, but I see her. Sometimes she just is staring off, looking like she's trying to remember something. Sometimes she cries without knowing why."

"That's terrible," Sara said softly.

"It's a pain in the ass," Ben agreed. "As I got older, I decided to do some investigating. Medical conditions couldn't explain it, neither could psychologists. So I turned to weirder things. I've dug deep into cults, conspiracy theories. Hell, I tried to blame it on aliens. But then I started looking at more . . . supernatural things. The pieces fit – when I was twelve I found a shotgun in the attic of our house. My mom never owned a gun. And the bullets weren't normal. Instead of powder they were filled with salt."

"So that's where the gun came from," Sara realized.

"I keep it in my trunk," Ben admitted. "The more I learned about the supernatural world the more I realized how dangerous it is. Better safe than sorry." He shrugged, glancing at Sara. "Now that I've seen what you can do, I know it's true. All of it. There _is_ more out there."

"You're right," Sara admitted, glancing down at the ground.

"So, can I ask? Or is it like, considered rude to ask what you are?" Ben rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know how things in your world work."

Sara laughed. "No, it's alright. Well . . . to answer your question, I'm called a Cambion," she answered, heart racing. She'd never had to explain it to anyone before. Jody and Alex and Claire had learned along with her. Ben was the first person outside of the family she was even talking to about this. "I _am_ half human," she assured him, hesitating. "But I'm also half demon."

Ben frowned, and raised his eyebrows. "Demon?"

"My mum," Sara began, taking a deep breath. "Was human. My father . . ."

"The one you just met a year ago?" Ben asked.

"Right," Sara said. "He's a demon. He's . . . more than a demon. He's sort of _the_ demon. He's the King of Hell."

"Holy shit."

"I know, right?"

"So what about your siblings? Are they like you?"

"No," Sara shook her head. "When I met my foster mother, Jody, and Claire and Alex, I didn't even know what I was. I was running, I was hurt, and they found me and took me in. But they're human. Though . . . they're like you. They know things. And the monsters in this world . . . well, they hunt them."

"Hunt them?"

"Most supernatural creatures are evil," Sara explained. "Demons are generally considered the worst. But there are more. Jody used to have a husband and a little boy, but they were killed by . . . something. She doesn't really talk about it. Alex was kidnapped as a child and raised by vampires. Jody rescued her. Claire . . . her parents are dead, and her father's body is possessed by an angel."

"Angels?" Ben's eyes were wide as all of this was thrust upon him. "Angels are real?"

"Mm-hm. And, before you ask, yes, God is too. But he prefers to be called Chuck."

"Sure. So, what about your brother?"

"Gavin is probably the most complicated out of all of his," Sara said. "He's fully human, because my father was human when he was conceived – Gavin is from the 1700s. He was brought forward in time by a demon who was trying to blackmail my father. Ironically, Gavin's now a hunter. And I cannot believe you're still listening to me."

"It's too damn crazy to be made up," Ben admitted. "So . . . half demon. That's gotta be rough."

"It's been a challenge," Sara admitted. "And my grandmother, who happens to be a very powerful witch, thinks I should let my powers grow. My dad does, too. But Sam and Dean think I need to be more careful."

"Sam and Dean?" Ben frowned, brow furrowing as though he were trying to remember something.

"Oh, yeah. Sam and Dean Winchester. They're brothers. Hunters."

"Dean Winchester. I swear I've heard that name before."

"If you've been looking into the supernatural world, there's no doubt," Sara said, amused. "Him and Sam are sort of famous among hunters. They've saved the world. Like, a lot. The Winchesters are also some of the only other hunters besides for Jody who don't want to gank me."

"So that British dick, back at the school. Is he a hunter?"

Sara sighed. "Yes? I think? His people are called the Men of Letters. They blame Sam and Dean for breaking the sun a few months ago."

"That crazy thing that happened with the sun a few months ago was because of them?"

"Well," Sara said, taking a deep breath. "It all started because Dean got cursed with the Mark of Cain, which turned him into a demon. Sam saved him, but the mark was still making Dean do rather reckless things, and the only way to remove the mark was to kill Death himself. After they killed Death, they accidentally released pretty much all the evil that was stored inside the Mark, which actually was Chuck's sister Amara. She got a little bent out of shape, what with her brother having locked her away for a few billion years, so she decided to end the world. It took a lot of us to stop her, and finally she reunited with her brother, which was all fine and good, but we thought Dean had died so Sam and I went back to our secret hideout and there was this terrible woman there saying she was from the Men of Letters, and had to take us in for questioning, which was actually a nice way of saying 'torturing the living will from you' and we managed to get away but only after I almost murdered her in cold blood and I'm going to stop talking now because this sentence has gotten completely out of hand and _oh my god I killed two people tonight."_

She was hyperventilating, holding her hand over her heart and taking quick, short breaths. Ben gently laid a hand on her back, looking very worried as she started to cry.

"I never . . . I've never _killed_ anyone before," she gasped, trying to stifle a sob. "I – I've done some horrible things, but always to – to evil people, and never myself. I killed two innocent men. They were only following orders. Oh my god. _Oh my god_."

"Hey," Ben said, taking her shoulders and making her face him. "Look at me – Sara, look at me," he said, and Sara did so, focusing on his green eyes as he stared into hers. "It wasn't your fault," he said firmly. "You didn't do it on purpose. That Ketch guy, he was testing you. He _wanted_ you to do it. _He_ killed those guys, Sara, not you."

Sara hiccuped. "Why are you so nice to me?" she whispered. "You heard him. I'm a monster."

"He's a monster." Ben shook his head. "You were born the way you were. That asshole is self-made. Everything he's ever done has been on purpose. You're a good person, Sara. If it had been me . . . well, I would have killed him."

Sara swallowed, and leaned forward, burying her face in his shoulder and crying. Ben wrapped his arms around her, resting his forehead against her head.

"Half the stuff you just told me makes no sense," he said quietly. "You're _so_ going into greater detail later."

Sara gave a cross between a sob and a laugh, pulling away from him. "I've been so awful to you," she said, wiping the tears from her cheeks. "Ben, I'm sorry." She shuddered against a cool gust of air, and hugged herself.

"Nah, I was a dick. I'm not good at expressing my feelings," he admitted, shrugging out of his bomber jacket and draping it around her shoulders. "You're just. I dunno. Special."

 _That's what Scott called me, right before he called me a freak._ But Ben . . . Ben was different. He knew pretty much everything about her now. And he was still here. And he was still saying she was special.

Sara sniffed again. "So much for my perfect night," she laughed bitterly.

"Hey, it doesn't have to be over yet," Ben said, standing. He walked to his car, turning on the headlights like a spotlight, and turned the radio up. The beginning of Leonard Cohen's _Hallelujah_ crooned from the radio, and Ben reached behind the seat, grabbing something a returning to Sara.

"I didn't get you like a corsage or anything," he said, holding up a red carnation. "But I thought roses were lame. So."

Sara swallowed, smiling at him and turning pink. "It's my favorite," she said softly, and Ben looked relieved. He gently tucked it into her hair behind her ear, and Sara's heart started to speed up at his touch.

"So, can I have that dance?" Ben asked, holding his hand out. Sara shyly took it, and Ben pulled her close, holding her hand in his and holding her waist with the other. They moved slowly to the rhythm of the music, dancing in the spotlight of the Impala's headlights. Sara rested her head on his shoulder, and Ben moved his hand to stroke her hair softly.

She'd just killed two men. She'd been poisoned, and abandoned by a boy she thought had cared about her. She'd admitted everything – about who she was, what she was – to Ben, and he was still standing here, holding her. But as she stood close to him, everything seemed okay, if only for a moment.

She looked up at him, and he stared into her eyes, dazzling green meeting soft brown. There wasn't a trace of fear or disgust in his eyes – only admiration, and curiosity, and something Sara didn't recognize but really liked. She felt something – something more than the butterflies she'd felt with Scott, something real and here and passionate.

"Ben . . ." she whispered, parting her lips a bit.

He laid his hand gently on her uninjured cheek, and Sara closed her eyes and tilted her head as his lips met hers. She'd never felt as safe as she did in that moment, being held and loved in a way she was unused to. He held the back of her head gently, her soft hair gently tangled in his hands, and Sara held onto him tightly, standing on her toes as she deepened the embrace, and Ben pulled her closer still.

 _Now this is a real kiss,_ Sara thought, everything – Scott and Ketch and silly dances and _everything_ – far behind her. All that was left was her, and Ben, and this moment.

* * *

 **Well, I hope you enjoyed! I'll be back with the next chapter soon. Until then, let me know what you think!**


	21. Chapter 21

Ben stopped the Impala outside of Jody's house later that night. The Chevelle was already there, and Fergus could be heard barking from inside. All the lights were on, and Sara could see Jody through the kitchen window. She secretly hoped her father was gone, as to avoid a scene. But if she knew him, he was already out looking for her.

"You gonna be okay?" Ben asked, noticing Sara's hesitation.

She swallowed, and nodded. "I just hope Scott doesn't tell anyone," she sighed, rubbing her temples.

"Yeah, right. 'Hey, so this girl and I were walking out by the woods, _alone_ , when a guy with a gun showed up and attacked us. So the girl used her superpowers to escape while I pissed myself and ran away like a bitch, leaving her to die.'" He sneered. "If I see that guy again, he's toast."

"Ketch or Scott?"

"Both."

Sara gave him a small smile. "Ben . . . thanks again."

He raised his eyebrows. "For?"

"For saving my life. For listening. For . . . for everything." She tucked some hair behind her ear, fidgeting self-consciously. "No one has ever reacted as . . . normally as you have. It's nice."

"I'm a nice guy," he grinned.

Sara rolled her eyes, opening the car door.

"Hey," Ben called, and Sara glanced at him. He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "It's going to be okay, you know."

Sara smiled softly. "Yeah," she said. "I know. I'll see you, Ben."

"Yes you will," he told her as she shut the car door. She walked towards the porch, pausing to watch the Impala's taillights disappear down the driveway before taking a deep breath and opening the door.

Immediately Jody appeared from the kitchen, holding the phone to her ear. She gave a sigh of relief. "No, she's here. She just walked through the door. See you soon." She hung up, approaching Sara and pulling her to her. "I've been worried sick. Claire said Roland showed up at the school with some cryptic message about bodies and that your phone was broken." She pulled away, examining the bruises on Sara's cheek. "Oh my God, Sara, what happened?"

"Is she back?" Claire came sprinting into the foyer from the living room, eyes wide. "There you are! We got worried when you and Scott didn't come back, and then Roland showed up . . ."

"Come on, sit down," Jody said, pulling Sara into the kitchen. Mary looked up from where she was texting Sam and Dean, and Rowena immediately stood, looking furious.

"What on earth happened?" she demanded, taking Sara's face in her hands. "Oh, my wee girl, who did this?"

"A man called Ketch," Sara said, letting Rowena push her gently into a chair. "He said he's with the Men of Letters."

"Did you say Ketch?" Mary asked, eyes widening slightly.

"That's right," Sara said, wincing as Jody laid an ice-pack on her face. "Why?"

Mary feigned a smile. "Nothing. Don't worry about it. I'm glad you're safe, Sara." She stood. "Excuse me, I need to make a phone call . . ." she exited the room, and Alex and Kevin came into the kitchen. Alex sighed.

"Why is it whenever we take our eyes off of you, you come back black and blue?" she asked, stroking her sister's hair.

"Keeps you on your toes," Sara smiled faintly. "Rowena, could you take a look at this cut on my arm? I healed the gunshot wound, but –"

"Gunshot wound?!" Jody squeaked as Rowena slid Ben's jacket off of Sara, leaning in front of her and carefully removing the gauze. Fergus sat beside Sara, whining and pressing his nose against her. Rowena held her hand over the cut, murmuring incantations and slowly piecing the torn flesh back together.

"What happened?" Crowley demanded harshly as he appeared in the kitchen, striding towards Sara and glancing over her, eyes furious and tone dangerous.

"Dad, it's not –" Sara started.

"Don't make excuses!" he snapped at her. "I want to know exactly what happened, now."

"Hush, Fergus, I'm concentrating," Rowena scolded, moving on to the large bruise left over from Sara's own healing attempt.

"I'm not really sure," Sara admitted. "Scott brought me a drink and we went for a walk. When I took a drink I realized it was laced with holy water, and then this man, Ketch, showed up saying he was from the Men of Letters. He said he was there to 'clean up Lady Bevel's mess.' He attacked and I fought with him. I . . . I thought I had won, but then his men showed up and they shot at me and – and I didn't mean to, but I accidentally deflected their bullets and they were killed." Her eyes began to water again as she thought of what she'd done. "It was an accident, I swear I didn't mean to . . ."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Rowena said fiercely, clasping Sara's hands. "They got what they deserved."

"It was an accident," Jody agreed gently. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"And Ketch?" Crowley asked coolly.

"He didn't give up easy, that's for sure. I would have been dead if Ben hadn't shown up."

"Ben?" Jody frowned, crossing her arms. "That troublemaker from your school?"

"He saved my life," Sara said earnestly. "He helped me get away. We hid for a while and . . . well, I told him everything."

"Everything?" Alex raised her eyebrows.

"Like, _everything_ everything?" Claire asked.

"Yeah, pretty much," Sara admitted.

"And . . . then what?" Jody asked nervously.

Sara hesitated. "And then he brought me home." Some things could be left out.

"Just like that?" Crowley narrowed his eyes, unconvinced.

"Just like that," Sara agreed. "He already knew a bit, about our world. The rest of it didn't surprise him much. He won't tell," she added quickly.

"What I want to know," Claire interrupted, crossing her arms. "Is where was Scott for all this?"

Sara flushed, looking away. "He . . . I told him to run," she started. "But he wouldn't. And he saw everything. And then after he saw . . . what I was . . . then he ran."

"He left you there?" Crowley demanded, and Sara nodded miserably.

Crowley was normally calm in situations like this, but now his own eyes momentarily turned red with anger. "I'll kill him."

"Get in line, shortstack," Claire growled. "I can't _believe_ that guy! He's _so_ dead."

"Jody, where's my gun?" Alex asked nonchalantly.

"I've already got directions to his house," Kevin added, scrolling through his phone.

"No, guys, stop," Sara said, stomach dropping. "Please, he was just scared. He didn't know what was going on, so he ran. It was better that way, otherwise Ketch would have just tried to kill him, too." She shook her head. "I just . . . I just want to put this entire night behind me." _Well, maybe not the_ entire _night._

"She's right," Rowena agreed. "She needs to rest. I'm able to fix the physical injuries but the holy water will take some time to leave her system."

"Come on," Jody said, pulling Sara up. "Let's get you ready for bed."

"Thanks, everyone," Sara sighed, relieved. Rowena smiled and kissed her forehead.

"Feel better, darlin'," she said, squeezing her hand.

Jody took Sara upstairs, and Alex and Claire followed. Claire sat on the foot of the bed while Jody handed Sara some pajamas, and Alex nervously paced.

"So, what's really bothering you?" Jody asked, crossing her arms as Sara changed.

Sara froze as she pulled her hair out from under her collar, and swallowed. "W-what do you mean?"

"Sweetie, you got the absolute hell beaten out of you, and I've still caught you smiling a few times tonight," Jody said, arching an eyebrow. "Namely when you're talking about a certain knight in shining armor?"

"Yeah, what really happened with Ben?" Claire asked.

" _I_ want to know what happened with Scott," Alex said, crossing her arms. "The truth."

The color drained from Sara's face as she remembered the horrible things he'd said to her, the way he looked at her, like she was a monster.

"Nothing," she said, moving to her dresser and picking up her hairbrush.

"Sara," Alex warned.

Sara sighed. "He . . . he was scared of me," she said, putting the brush back down and leaning against the dresser. "I had to use my powers to fight off Ketch, I didn't have a choice . . . but when Scott saw, he freaked out. He . . . he told me to stay away from him. That I'm a freak."

Jody looked heartbroken, her face falling. "Oh, Sara . . ."

"There's more." Sara sat on her bed, petting Fergus on the head. "He was going to let them shoot me. He saw them come up behind me and he didn't say anything."

"What?!" Jody demanded.

"My gun, Jody," Alex said again, standing.

"On top the fridge," Jody replied, now as furious as Crowley.

"Stop," Sara rolled her eyes. "He was right. I _am_ a freak."

"Well, yeah, but you're _our_ freak," Claire said. "And who the hell does he think he is, deciding whether or not to let you die? What the hell? He's the real freak."

"You sound like Ben," Sara smiled.

Everyone was quiet for a moment.

"So, Ben?" Claire urged.

"He saved me," Sara repeated. "Came in guns blazing – literally. Took me away and cleaned me up a bit. Listened to me when I explained . . . everything." She reached up, removing the carnation from behind her ear and admiring it. "And then we . . ." She bit her lip to keep from smiling so hard. "He told me I was special. And he kissed me."

"Plot twist," Claire said, looking surprised, and Jody smiled softly, sitting next to Sara and hugging her to her side.

"He sounds like a great guy," she said, kissing Sara's temple. She remembered her own first love. Bittersweet, she recognized that Sara wanted a hero, even if she didn't need one.

"You guys hate each other," Alex laughed.

"He's insufferable," Sara agreed, amused. "But . . . he cares." She sighed happily, and yawned.

Jody smiled again, stroking Sara's hair. "Get some sleep, honey. If you need me, just shout."

"Want me to sleep in here?" Claire asked.

"I'm okay," Sara insisted, letting Jody do her motherly duty and tuck her in. Fergus jumped up onto the foot of the bed, circling a few times before laying down, head rested on Sara's leg. "And don't let any of this take away from the fact that Claire won homecoming queen."

Jody's eyes widened. "You did?!" she gasped, looking at Claire, who rolled her eyes.

"Yes, and I'd prefer it if you called me 'your highness' from now on. Serve me tea and crumpets, escort me where I need to go. Maybe start introducing me when I enter a room."

"You're going to drive Gavin mad with this," Sara grinned.

"Oh, you have no idea."

Sara yawned again, and Jody stood.

"You need to sleep. Good night, baby," she said. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Jody."

Jody and the girls exited the room, and Sara turned onto her side, glancing at the carnation on the nightstand. She smiled again, closing her eyes for a moment and picturing the perfect moment from that evening.

There was a knock on her door, and Sara called for them to come in. Her father opened the door, glancing in at her.

"Hey," Sara smiled softly.

Crowley came in and paused by her nightstand. He set down a box on it, tapping it. "Your new phone," he said, sitting down on the bed beside her. He sighed, stroking some hair back from her face.

"I hope you realize that you're turning me gray with worry," he told her.

Sara grinned. "You were already going gray, I'm just helping to progress it."

"I'm half tempted to lock you away where no one can ever hurt you."

"I'd drive you mad," Sara promised. "I'm very persistent."

"Oh, I know. You're exactly like your mother." He sighed again. "As kind as mother dear was to heal your wounds, the holy water will still cause you some trouble. It won't be as bad as last time but you'll feel some discomfort later."

"I'll be okay," Sara assured him. She hesitated. "Those men I killed . . ."

"It's been dealt with."

"I didn't mean to do it, Dad. I didn't think about what I was doing . . . they were innocent. They were following orders."

"Stupid orders," Crowley replied. "They knew what they were getting into. Besides, they should have known that if you didn't kill them, I would have. Idiots."

Sara shuddered, partly from cold, and Crowley pulled her blankets up around her shoulders and kissed her temple.

"Go to sleep, darling," he told her, and Sara could tell he was using his powers to influence her mind into doing as he said. Her eyelids grew heavy and she felt her father stand and start to leave the room, turning the light off.

"Dad," Sara murmured.

"Yes, darling?"

"Don't murder Scott. Please."

He huffed. "You ruin my fun. Good night, Sara."

Crowley shut her door and retreated downstairs, rejoining the women in the kitchen. Mary was leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

"I just got off the phone with Castiel," she was saying. "I was right. Ketch is the name of the man who gave Sam and Dean the weapon that'll help to capture Lucifer."

"That doesn't make up for what he's done," Jody replied.

"I agree. But we can't even think about making a move until after this is all dealt with," Mary said. "Tomorrow I'm going to go out and see what I can find on these Men of Letters."

"We didn't want to say anything until we were sure," Alex said, exchanging a hesitant glance with Kevin. "But Kevin and I have been tracking this Ketch guy for a few weeks. He's bad news – but he's good at what he does."

"He is good, I'll give him that," Crowley admitted. "By the time Roland got to the scene of the incident, Ketch had already had the bodies removed and any signs of a struggle were gone."

"Will you be able to take him on?" Jody frowned.

"He's good," the demon repeated. "But I'm Crowley."

"We don't have time to focus on Lucifer and the Men of Letters at the same time," Rowena interjected. "We need to take this one at a time."

"I loathe to admit it, but you're right. I'm headed back to the bunker to meet up with the flannel twins," Crowley told her. "You'll be ready tomorrow?"

"Of course, darlin'," Rowena smiled sweetly, standing and gathering her coat and purse. "I'll see you at the bunker. Thank you again for helping me with my fiancé."

"You have a fiancé?" Jody raised her eyebrows.

"Did have," Rowena said innocently. She blew Crowley an over exaggerated kiss and left, leaving the demon to roll his eyes.

"This had better work," he grumbled. "Because as soon as Lucifer is taken care of, she's next."

* * *

Jody wasn't surprised to find Alex and Claire asleep on Sara's floor the next morning, rolled into sleeping bags. Sara was absolutely drenched in sweat, which slowly steamed off her body, and Jody continued to return to her every few hours to replace a cold washcloth on her forehead. The girl was in obvious pain as the poison left her body, trembling and occasionally crying out quietly in her sleep, and Jody's heart squeezed. Fergus refused to leave his owners side, and would occasionally give Sara's hand a lick.

She let the girls sleep in and went downstairs to make her coffee. As she sat at the table, opening the newspaper, her phone rang.

"Jody," Castiel said when she answered, and the angel sounded distressed. "It's about Sam and Dean. We've got a problem."


	22. Chapter 22

**Hi everyone! Sorry about the hiatus. Between starting a new school year, a new job, and prepping for grad school, things have gotten a little busy in my neck of the woods! However, things are finally slowing down a bit and I'm finally able to return to my writing. Thank you all for your concern and your patience and I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

" _Arrested?_ "

Claire couldn't believe it. Sam and Dean had just saved the life of the most powerful man in the United States and saved the world from the wrath of Lucifer, and they were rewarded by being arrested? What the hell?

"Not just arrested, either," Jody sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed, her face lined with worry and exhaustion. "They were taken in by – well, we don't know who. Secret service? The feds? Someone important."

"This could be so much worse," Alex said optimistically, trying to make the best out of an otherwise crap situation. "Lucifer is gone, and everyone made it out alive. Sam and Dean . . . they'll get out of this. They're the Winchesters."

"You're right," Jody admitted. She hesitated for a moment, glancing towards the door and lowering her voice. "Girls, I don't think we should mention the Men of Letters' involvement with all this to Sara just yet. She's been through a lot with them and we need to be gentle with her."

"I'm trying to track that Ketch guy, but I've had no luck so far," Kevin added, also keeping his voice low.

"And we'lll keep trying," Alex assured Jody, laying her hand on her foster mother's arm. "He's still out there, and he could be hurting others. We can't let him get away with that."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Jody promised.

"So, what about Lucifer Jr.?" Claire asked hesitantly.

"Well, Castiel is with this Kelly Kline woman right now," Jody started slowly.

"But what are they going to _do_ about it?"

"Castiel is convinced there's only one thing they can do," Jody said in a hushed tone. Before Claire could interrupt, she added, "I hate it, too, but . . . it's not our call. It's something that may have to happen to make sure the rest of the world is safe."

"I hate all this secret keeping," Alex said nervously. "But maybe we should wait to tell Sara about this, too."

"I think you're right," Jody agreed reluctantly. "We'll talk to her about all this once she's fully recovered. For now, we should focus on helping the boys in whatever ways we can – discreetly."

The others murmured in agreement, and Sara frowned from where she stood on the stairs, listening to the conversation. So it had been decided – the Nephilim was going to die. Was Kelly Kline even really getting a choice? Or was this being pressed upon her?

Sara had known what she had to do since her talk with Mary. Quietly, she retreated to her room – she had told the others that she wanted to rest a while longer, so she should be left alone. She shut the door and changed from her pajamas into some regular clothes quickly, running her fingers through her unruly curls. She pulled her jacket on and leaned forward on her dresser, looking in her mirror.

"Right," she breathed. "You can do this. Just think of where you need to be. Where is Kelly Kline?" she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to concentrate. It was slow going – teleporting was hard enough when she knew where she was going. Doing it without having any solid destination in mind was even harder.

 _Come on, Sara,_ she told herself. _Just do it. Move. Move. Kelly needs you.  
_

When she opened her eyes, she was beside of a busy street, outside of a small diner. She allowed herself a small, satisfied smile – she'd barely even felt it that time. She was getting good at the whole demon thing.

She glanced around, noticing Castiel's truck – he was here, and that would mean Kelly Kline was, too. Sara ducked behind a parked car, squinting and searching through the window on the diner until she found Castiel sitting at a table, his back to her. He was with a woman – _that must be her,_ Sara thought. _Now, how can I get her out here?_

But she didn't need to. The woman said something to Cas and stood, starting towards the bathroom before pausing, casting a nervous glance over her shoulder at him before darting for the front door instead.

Kelly Kline was having the same idea as Sara.

Sara moved from behind her hiding spot, strolling towards the door of the diner as the woman nervously exited, looking around. She started to leave, pausing, startled, when she almost ran into Sara.

"Kelly?" Sara asked, and the woman hesitated nervously.

"Who are you?"

Sara looked around quickly, making sure Castiel was still sitting at the table. When she was positive he was, she touched Kelly's elbow gently, nodding towards the back of the building. "Come with me."

Kelly looked uncertain, and Sara looked her in the eyes - frightened, panicked eyes. The eyes of a mother in fear for her child.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she promised. She nodded at Kelly's stomach. "Or your baby. I'm here to help you get away." She started walking towards the back of the building, and Kelly hesitated again before following.

"Who are you?" she asked again, rushing to keep up with Sara.

"A friend," Sara said, checking behind her before rounding the corner, relaxing now that they were out of sight. "Sorry – I don't want Castiel knowing I'm here."

"You know Castiel?"

"He's a friend. A good friend. But . . . he's making a mistake. I know what he's told you, Kelly," Sara said, surprising the older woman. "And he's absolutely right. That child inside of you, Lucifer's child, it's _incredibly_ powerful, and it has to potential to be very dangerous. But the baby's fate isn't Castiel's decision. It's no one's but yours."

"Why are you saying this?" Kelly asked, looking skeptical, and bit like she was about to cry. "Everyone else has been so sure that the only thing to do is . . . is to . . ." she laid her hand on her stomach, and Sara swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Because I know what it's like," she said quietly. "Your baby and I . . . we share some similarities."

"Are you . . . are you like it?"

"Not exactly," Sara said, blinking, her eyes shifting from warm brown to deep crimson. Kelly's own eyes widened and she instinctively took a step back before examining Sara more closely, her face curious and suspicious. Sara blinked again, her eyes returning to their normal color, and she shoved her hands into her jacket pocket self-consciously.

"What are you?" Kelly asked, more cautious than afraid.

"My father isn't an angel," Sara began. "But he _is_ a demon. You met him last night, I think."

"Mr. Crowley?" Kelly looked more surprised still. "But then . . . why are you trying to help me?"

"Sam and Dean . . . Cas, and Dad, and Rowena, they think they're doing what's right. What's best. But I'm not so sure. I feel like . . ." she swallowed, looking away for a moment. "I feel like if they don't believe there's any hope for that child inside of you, what sort of hope is there for _me_? Not all angels are bad. Your baby might be the child of Lucifer, but it's still part angel – and that's _good_. Better than part demon. Not that I'm ashamed," she said quickly at Kelly's pained look. "I know what I am, and I've accepted it. I've learned to grow with it, and I try my best to use what I am to help people. So if I can do it, well, I think your baby can, too. It just needs the right guidance."

Kelly was quiet for a moment, staring at Sara for a long few moments.

"You're just a kid."

"I know."

"What's your name?"

"Sara."

"Sara . . . you're the first person in all of this to really give me an option," Kelly whispered. "I . . . I don't want to kill my baby. It's my _baby_. I'm its mother, I'm supposed to protect it."

"Whatever decision you make, it needs to be based on what _you_ want," Sara said earnestly. "Lucifer and I, we have history. I've had to fight him, to work with him . . . he's all wrong, but that doesn't mean your baby is. Whatever you decide to do, it's the right choice, because it's your choice." She took a deep breath. "So, Kelly Kline. What do you want?"

Kelly hesitated. "I want . . . I want to . . ." She looked around nervously, swallowing, before looking back to Sara. "How do I get away?"

"Follow me," Sara said, moving towards the other side of the diner. She glanced around, and when she realized the coast was clear, gestured for Kelly to follow her. They made their way down a side street and a few alleys, before Sara was able to hail a cab. The vehicle pulling alongside the curb, and Sara pulled out her wallet, removing a few large bills from it and handing it to the cabbie.

"Take her wherever she needs to go," Sara said. "Keep the change."

The cabbie nodded, and Sara opened the car door for Kelly. Kelly paused for a moment before leaning forward and hugging Sara.

"Thank you," she whispered, and Sara hugged her back, taking a deep breath and hoping she was making the right choice. She stepped away as Kelly got into the cab, shutting the door. Sara leaned in the window, handing Kelly a piece of paper.

"This is my number," Sara told her, and Kelly took it. "Keep in touch. I'll do my best to make sure the others stay off your tail." She hesitated. "Also, in order for me to keep helping you, we need to keep this discreet. No one can _know_ I'm helping you."

Kelly nodded, and Sara offered her a reassuring smile. "Good luck," she told her, stepping away. The cab pulled away from the curb, and Sara tucked her hands into her pockets, watching the car disappear, knowing – or at least, hoping really hard – that she'd done the right thing.

* * *

Sara had never been as nervous as she was on her way to school on Monday.

Even after helping the mother of Lucifer's child - and the baby itself - escape from her own friends, Sara couldn't shake the feeling of dread she had. She knew she was going to have to face Scott – if he'd even speak to her. Her heart sped up just thinking of any sort of confrontation with her former crush. Claire noticed this as they walked into the school, and bumped her sister's shoulder.

"Hey," she said, and Sara looked at her. "It's gonna be okay."

Sara nodded miserably, following her inside. She headed straight for her locker, avoiding everyone as best she could, and began to gather her books. So far everything was normal – friendly faces were saying hello to her. Tara was casting her usual annoyed glances at any attention Sara got. But no sign of Scott. Whether or not that was a good thing, she wasn't sure.

"Hey."

She looked up, startled from her thoughts as Ben joined her, leaning against her locker. He was looking her up and down, more out of concern than anything else, a frown set in his face.

"Hi," Sara said, a bit shyly as she paused from getting her books.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better," Sara admitted. "My grandmother was able to get me cleaned up, and my fever is gone."

"Good. That's good." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking around awkwardly, and Sara turned pink, not knowing what to say. Before, Ben had been all pick up lines and bedroom eyes. Now he looked like a lost puppy.

"Oh," Sara said, opening her messenger back and withdrawing Ben's jacket to distract from the fact she'd just been staring at him. She held the jacket out to him. "Ah, here. Thanks for letting me borrow it."

Ben glanced at the jacket for a moment before shaking his head. "Keep it," he said. He added a playful grin. "It looks cuter on you."

Sara smiled, but held the jacket closer to her. Ben was still smiling at her, and Sara nervously tucked some hair behind her ear.

"C'mon," Ben said, taking her books from her. "I'll walk you to class."

"You don't have to."

"I want to."

Sara smiled, and nodded, depositing the jacket in her locker and shutting it as she and Ben fell into step, making their way towards Sara's homeroom.

"Any word on that British asshole?" Ben asked.

"No," Sara said, shaking her head. "And good riddance. I hope I never see him again."

"If he's still out there, he could come back again," Ben frowned, brow furrowing.

"Father says I'll just have to be more cautious," Sara said with a shrug. "From now on I'm only supposed to eat packed lunches and bottled water." She rolled her eyes. "He's just being overprotective. And I'm much more prepared this time."

"Your dad might be onto something," Ben said slowly, not wanting to offend her. "That guy was totally relentless."

"Alex is trying to track him," Sara said, leaning against the wall outside her homeroom class. Students were starting to file inside, the halls becoming less condensed as the day was coming to a start.

Ben looked around, jaw clenched as his eyes scanned the crowd of students. "And any word yet on the _other_ asshole?"

"I . . . I haven't seen him yet," Sara admitted, looking down. "I'm scared to. I know what it must've looked like. He probably doesn't even know if I'm alive." _Or care._

"Yeah," Ben said, eyes flashing with anger. "Because he left you to die."

Sara looked away, red with embarrassment, and Ben sighed. He laid his hand on her wrist gently, and Sara glanced at his hand, and then him. His expression had softened.

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "It just . . . it really pisses me off. He doesn't deserve to be in the same room as you after what he did, and I just . . . well, I dunno what. I kinda want to break his face."

Sara gave a small smile, turning her hand to hold his. He immediately laced his fingers with hers, squeezing gently.

"Don't get into trouble over it," Sara told him. "You just got here, I doubt your mother would be very eager to leave again. Besides," she added nonchalantly. "It would get pretty boring around here without you."

"Yeah?" he smirked, running his thumb over the back of her hand, and arched an eyebrow. "Few days ago you couldn't stand me. Kicked my ass, if I recall."

"Oh, and I still could," Sara promised. "There's nothing demon about that, either. But . . . Ben, you can't even begin to understand what you've done for me."

"I didn't do anything."

"You did everything."

Ben looked happy at that, and Sara turned pink again, heart aflutter in her chest. Ben lifted his hand and brushed some hair behind Sara's ear, an act he seemed fond of, and handed her her books.

"You'd better get to class," he said.

"Yeah," Sara sighed, glancing at the classroom.

"I'll see you at lunch?"

"Sure," she smiled, and he gave her hand one last squeeze before meandering off to his own first class of the day. Sara watched him leave, and her smile widened for a moment before she made her way to her desk.

* * *

Claire picked at her lunch, pushing some peas around her tray with her fork. She stifled a frustrated sigh. This was _shitty_. Lying was shitty. Sam and Dean being in jail for saving the world was shitty.

The whole stupid situation was shitty.

"You're supposed to _eat_ your food," Alex scolded her as she joined her, sitting down at the outdoor picnic table across from Claire. Sara joined them, opening her sealed water bottle and taking a sip. Claire watched warily before glancing back at her tray.

"This is food?" Claire muttered, chin resting in her hand.

Sara frowned. "Is everything okay?"

Claire sighed. "No. No, it's not. I can't keep lying to you like this." She sat up straight, and Alex's eye's widened.

"Thank god, it was killing me," Alex added in a rush with a a relieved sigh.

Sara frowned. "What's up?"

"It's about that woman, the one that's pregnant with Lucifer's kid," Claire started. "After they jammed Lucifer back in the box, Castiel took her away so they could figure out what to do."

"They made their decision," Alex added gently. "And it wasn't great."

"But it doesn't matter, because she's gone," Claire continued irritably.

"Gone?" Sara feigned confusion. It must have looked real enough, because Alex continued in a hushed tone, leaning forward.

"Yeah," she said. "She was with Cas, but she ditched him. No one can find her. She's out there, and she's still pregnant with Lucifer's baby."

"Can you blame her?" Claire stabbed a pea, mushing it against her tray. "Everyone is suddenly all over her, saying she's carrying _Rosemary's Baby._ She didn't even get a choice in the matter! I woulda bounced, too."

"You would have?" Sara asked in surprise, raising her eyebrows.

"Hell yeah," Claire said, sipping her soda. "Like, I know it's Lucifer's, but that doesn't make it automatically evil, does it?" she hesitated, glancing from Alex to Sara and back again. "Does it?"

"Who can know?" Alex shrugged, picking at the bread of her sandwich. She looked conflicted. "It's a baby."

Sara's heart soared. _They get it. They understand. I can tell them._

"Listen, there's something I need to tell you," Sara started.

"What're we talking about?" Ben set his tray down, taking a seat beside Sara, and Claire and Alex both looked surprised. He popped a grape in his mouth, looking around them.

"Shoes," Alex said quickly, leaning back.

"Feminine hygiene products," Claire said at the same time.

Sara rolled her eyes. "It's _fine_ ," she told her foster sisters. She hesitated. _Tell them later,_ she told herself.

Claire arched an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright." She returned to picking at her food. "We were just discussing the fact that somewhere out there, a woman pregnant with the literal spawn of Satan is running around without a damn clue what she's doing."

Ben nodded slowly, and took a long drink of his soda. "Any chance we can go back to shoes and tampons?"

"With Lucifer out of the picture, it'll at least be easier to try and find her," Alex continued, glancing back at her sisters. "It's one less person out looking for her."

"Damn, you guys are serious," Ben said, putting his drink down. "So, Lucifer. That's, like, a real thing?"

Alex and Claire looked at each other for a long moment before bursting into laughter, and Ben frowned. Sara rolled her eyes.

"He's real," Sara told Ben. "And he's been a real problem. He's a little destructive."

"A little?" Claire snorted. "That bastard destroyed Ladyheart!"

" _That's_ your biggest problem with him?" Alex raised her eyebrows.

"I mean, yeah, the whole possessing Cas and continual Sam and/or Sara torture and knocking a lady up thing is pretty crap, too," Claire rolled her eyes. "But Alex. It's _Ladyheart_."

"So this is for real?" Ben asked, frowning as he tried to follow along. "Lucifer is real, and he's got a kid? Isn't that like the Anti-Christ or something?"

"Technically Sara is the anti-Christ," Claire shrugged, and Sara rolled her eyes.

"That is an _extremely_ derogatory name for what I am," she retorted. "And you know it."

Alex glanced down at her phone as it buzzed, frowning. "It's Kevin," she said, reading through the message. "He's got a lead on Ketch – he's in Oregon."

"Gavin's in Oregon," Claire said, eyes widening slightly. "You don't think –?"

"He shouldn't have any interest in Gavin," Sara assured. "He's human, and even if Ketch knows who he is, I'm not sure he even knows that we're connected. If I had to guess, I'd say they're both there investigating the same thing. Ketch is technically a hunter, too."

"I'm texting Gavin anyway," Claire said, taking her phone out. "He at least needs to watch his back. These assholes haven't exactly been friendly to anyone, and they're definitely not making any friends with hunters. Especially not after word got out what they did to Sam." Her eyes fell on someone behind Sara, and her eyes narrowed. "Speaking of assholes . . ."

Sara turned, stomach turning over in knots as she realized Scott had just entered the quad. So far he looked normal – he was chatting and laughing with his friends like normal. He glanced up, though, and his face fell into a stony, cold mask as he met Sara's eyes. Sara tried for a smile, and Scott ignored it, jerking his head over towards a tree.

Sara sighed. "I'm going to talk to him," she said, standing.

"I'll go with you," Ben said, and Sara shook her head.

"I need to do this myself," she said. She swallowed, taking a deep breath before slowly making her way towards the tree, where Scott was standing with his arms crossed.

She approached him, nervously crossing her arms over herself and standing a few feet away from him. "Hi," she said quietly, relieved they were out of earshot from the other students.

"You made it out okay," Scott said, tone revealing nothing but icy disdain.

"Yeah," Sara said, not meeting his eyes. "What happened back there . . . I can explain."

"You don't have to explain," he retorted harshly. "I saw what happened. You killed those guys."

Sara forced herself to look at him, eyes pleading desperately. "They were going to kill _me_!"

"Why?"

Sara blinked, taken aback. "What?" she asked, frowning.

"Why were they going to kill you?"

He caught her off guard, and Sara faltered, unsure of what to say. She tried to search for words, and Scott scoffed.

"Because of those _things_ you can do, right?" he asked, sneering slightly. "You made that guy bleed without even touching him. You murdered those guys in cold blood without even thinking about it. That's not normal, Sara."

"Scott, it's not like that," she started.

"No, it's _exactly_ like that," he snapped. "That guy said you were a monster. He was right. I don't know what the hell you are, or why you're here, but I don't want anything to do with it, and I don't want anything to do with you."

Sara looked away, fighting back tears and hugging her arms closer to herself. "Did you . . . are you going to tell anyone?" she asked quietly, too ashamed to look at him.

He laughed harshly. "And say what? Like anyone would even believe me. Whatever you are, you've managed to hide yourself pretty well here. No one would ever take me seriously. 'Some freak with red eyes went crazy and killed some people at our high school dance.' No bodies, no evidence. That'd go ever well." His eyes went to someone behind Sara, and he looked annoyed. "What do you want?"

Sara had been expecting to turn around and find Ben coming at them; her eyes widened when she realized it was Claire, storming up to Scott. She drew her arm back, slamming her fist into his nose. There was a cracking noise and Scott shouted in pain and surprise, grabbing his bloody nose, and Claire took this as a chance to attack him, tackling the large boy to the ground and slamming her knees into his chest. She started wailing on his, slamming her fist into his face and chest and neck, anywhere she could reach.

 _"You – don't – ever – talk – to – her – ever – again!_ " Claire snarled, emphasizing each word with a blow as he tried to cover his face. Alex and Ben ran towards the scene, as other kids began to gather as well. "If you even _look_ at her, I'll tear you a new one!"

"Claire!" Sara exclaimed, trying to help Alex pull Claire off of him. "Claire, stop!"

Ben grabbed Claire around her waist, pulling her off. She continued to try to claw and throw punches, spitting at Scott as he scrambled away, his friends helping him up.

"Crazy bitch!" Scott spat some blood on the ground, and suddenly Ben was shoving Claire into Sara's arms and launching himself at Scott. The boys were evenly matched in strength for the most part, but Ben was able to tackle him back to the ground. They rolled around, each getting in their fair share of punches around lots of cursing

"Ben!" Sara cried, still holding Claire back. "Ben, get off!"

"Hit him harder!" Claire was yelling, trying to wrestle out of Sara's grasp.

It took two teachers and three members of the football team to separate the boys, dragging them and Claire off to the office. Sara sat on the bench heavily, burying her face in her hands in embarrassment and frustration.

"Jody is going to kill her!" she groaned.

Alex sat beside her, rubbing Sara's back comfortingly. "You know," Alex said, watching her sibling being drug off to the principal. "Somehow I don't think she will, this time."


	23. Chapter 23

"Benjamin Braeden! What in the world have you done this time?"

Lisa Braeden rushed into the office, immediately berating her son, who sat slumped in a chair with his arms crossed. A large bruise was spreading across his cheek, and his lip was bleeding, but he didn't say anything.

Lisa sighed at her son's injuries, as well as his attitude. "Ben, this was supposed to be a new start," she said, the disappointment evident in her tone. "You promised you'd try harder this time. You were doing so well."

"Don't be too hard on him," said a blonde girl who was sitting beside Ben, arms also crossed and looking sullen. Her hair was a mess and there was blood on the front of her shirt - not hers, from the looks of it. "He was just saving my ass." She jerked her head to the nurses station, where the school nurses were attempting to stop a large, blonde boy's nose from bleeding. "That jerk over there was being a dick to my foster sister, so I punched him. A lot. Ben pulled me off, but then Ben went at him."

"He called you a bitch," Ben grumbled, sinking lower in his seat.

"I _am_ a bitch," the girl retorted. "But still. Thanks. That was pretty cool of you."

Lisa was surprised. This wasn't the first time Ben had been in trouble for fighting – far from it. He was always getting into it with people who were disrespectful, or bullies, but this was different. He had been _trying_ to hold back – but he couldn't just stand by and listen to a girl – a _friend_? - be attacked, verbally or otherwise?

"Ben," Lisa started with a sigh.

"Claire," a woman huffed as she entered the office. She was in a police officer's uniform, her jacket informing Lisa that she was the Sheriff. Lisa immediately recognized the look in this woman's eye – it was the same look Lisa got whenever she had to pick up Ben from the office.

"What did you do this time?" the sheriff demanded exasperatedly.

"He started it," Claire rolled her eyes.

Jody sighed with exhaustion and turned to Lisa. "I'm so sorry, I'm Sheriff Jody Mills – did my kid do something to yours?"

"Lisa Braeden. And no, actually," Lisa said, looking at the kids. "It sounds to me like they were defending another classmate."

Jody's glance softened, if only a bit, and she looked at her foster daughter. "Claire?"

"He was being a dick to Sara!" Claire exclaimed, defending herself. "He was saying all these awful things to her, I had to do something!"

"Not with your _fists_ , Claire."

"You're right, I should have offered to share my crayons and talk about our problems. _My bad_."

"You watch the sass, young lady," Jody warned sharply, and Claire huffed, looking away as Ben tried to stifle a grin. Jody turned back to Lisa. "So Claire _didn't_ attack your son?" she asked hopefully.

"Ben pulled your daughter off another kid, but then apparently that boy called her a name, and Ben . . . he has a temper," she finished weakly. She glanced at Ben. "You stay right here, I'm going to talk to your principal and _hopefully_ do some damage control. Excuse me, Sheriff." Lisa walked off, and Jody turned to the kids, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrows.

"He called her a monster, Jody," Claire argued with the demanding glance. "He said she was a freak. She doesn't deserve that, especially now."

"I know," Jody sighed. "I know. It's okay. Just – go get in the truck, Claire."

Claire glanced away, feeling ashamed and knowing that she'd embarrassed Jody, but did as she was told. Jody glanced back at Ben.

"So you're Ben," she said with a sigh. "I've heard lots of . . . things about you." She paused, glancing around to make sure no one in ear shot. "I know what you did the other night. You saved my girl's life. There is no possible way I can thank you for that."

"I don't want thanks," Ben said with a shrug. "I just want her to be safe."

Jody softened further. "Yeah. Me too. Tell you what, just this once – and I mean it, no more solving problems with yours fists – I'm going to try and pull some strings with the principal. I probably can't get you out of suspension and some serious detention, but I should be able to keep you from expulsion."

Ben hesitated, before giving a quick nod. "Thanks."

Jody gave him a tight smile. "You're always welcome at our place." She started to turn away, but hesitated, and turned back to him. "Just, one thing . . . if you do decide to tell your mom about . . . everything you know, ease her into it. It's a hard thing to be thrown into. I'd know."

Ben hadn't even considered what to do about him mother yet. With another nod, he said, "Yes, ma'am," and Jody continued to the principal's office.

* * *

Gavin clenched his jaw as he slammed his foot on the gas pedal, his truck roaring with power and it sailed over a small hill. Gavin clenched the steering wheel as the vehicle landed, causing the various weapons in the back seat to rattle around. He glanced in the rear-view mirror – yep, they were still on him. Two trucks full of 'em. A rebel flag was attached to one of the trucks, flapping against the wind as it sped towards him.

If there was one thing worse than a witch's coven, it was a redneck witch's coven. They had spells _and_ shotguns.

Gavin swerved as his tailgate was pelted with bullets. One of the witches was leaning out the truck window, shooting with one hand and trying to cast an incantation with the other. Gavin looked back to the fields in front of him, rolling through them in his super-duty.

"You still got the Duke Boys on your tail?" came a crackled voice through the CB radio Gavin had installed in the truck. He grabbed the radio, holding the button down with his thumb.

"You said a small coven!" Gavin snapped into the radio.

"It was small when I got here. They got friends!" August Reed was a good hunter, and a good friend, but damned if Gavin wasn't going to deck him if and when they got out of this.

"Where're the others?" Gavin demanded, ducking as bullets collided with his back window, sending glass shattering.

"They'll be here," August said, too calm. Then again, he didn't have two trucks full of angry witches on his ass.

"They need to be here _now!_ " Gavin replied.

"Turn right," August suggested, and Gavin didn't have the energy or the time to argue. Slamming on his breaks and turning sharply, he flew through the trees into an empty field. The gas pedal was pushed all the way to the floor as the truck tore through the field. He glanced behind him. He was losing the witches clan, but it wouldn't take them long to catch up.

"August," Gavin warned.

"Hit 'em, fellas!" August called.

" _Yeeeeee-haw!_ " came a new voice on the radio, that Gavin was pretty sure belonged to Syd Mullins, another hunter Gavin occasionally worked with. Shortly after the redneck war call, there was an explosion right below the truck carrying the witches. The vehicle flew into the air in a burst of flames and dirt, and Gavin's eyes widened as he was finally able to stop his truck. He got out slowly, watching as the truck fell to the ground in a charred mass.

Syd emerged from a hiding spot behind a small hill, sliding off a set of protective headphones. August parked his old, rattling truck beside Gavin's and got out. The three men stood there, watching the flames lick at the vehicle formerly containing witches.

"The hell was that?" Gavin asked in amazement.

"What?" August gave a gruff chuckle, slapping Gavin on the back as he headed back to his truck. "They don't got landmines back in 1700?"

"Even I'm impressed," Syd nodded approvingly at his handiwork. "I outdid myself. Good job, Syd." He patted himself on the back, moving towards August's truck. "Let's drink."

Gavin followed the two of them to a dingy little hole in the wall bar known for serving hunters. The bar was always pretty empty– maybe ten people there at a time, give or take, and most all of them hunters passing through. August parked beside Syd's Jeep, and Gavin parked directly beside them. As they entered the bar, August exchanged a nod with a few of the patrons.

August was a respected member of the hunting community. A grizzled man in his 60s, he'd been gray since he was in his forties, and years of drinking and hunting had taken its tool. He was still plenty strong and intimidating, and had worked with hunters from all over, including the infamous Bobby Singer and John Winchester. Syd was younger, a Japanese-American who'd moved to the states to pursue a career in engineering but found hunting instead. He was pretty cheerful, and often dirty from working with various gadgets and weapons. Gavin had never seen him without singed hair or eyebrows.

The men took their seats at the bar, and August ordered them each a beer.

"Headed back to Sioux Falls?" he asked, taking a long pull from his.

"That's the plan," Gavin nodded, rolling the bottle between his hands. "Might pick up a case or two on the way back. Things have calmed down enough now that I can be away longer."

"Not me," Syd said, finishing his first beer and signaling for a second. "I'm getting home to the missus. I haven't seen her in weeks, god forbid she hasn't thrown my shit out on the sidewalk already."

"You got yourself a good girl, kid?" August asked Gavin.

"The best," Gavin replied, fishing his wallet out of his pocket and opening it to reveal a picture of Claire. It was his favorite photo of the few he had – Claire, leaning against the Chevelle, covered in grease and dirt from working on the car. You could practically see the smart-ass remark on her grinning lips as she caught Gavin taking the picture.

August gave a nod. "Pretty. She know what you do in your spare time?"

Gavin didn't try to suppress his grin, tapping her picture. "This girl here?" he glanced at his fellow hunters. "Shot Lucifer in the face."

"Now there's a story I wanna hear," Syd said, and August raised his eyebrows, gesturing for Gavin to continue.

Gavin grimaced. "Not sure if it's one I can tell sober." He gestured for the bartender to get him a shot, and tucked Claire's picture away carefully.

The bar quieted down a bit as the door open, and an unfamiliar face entered. He didn't belong in the dive, this much was obvious. From his polished appearance to the expensive suit he wore, he stood out like a sore thumb. He was a tall, intimidating man, and many hunters averted eye contact.

After a moment of standing in silence, he crossed the bar, which returned to a quieter buzz. The man approached the bar, taking a seat on the barstool next to Gavin.

"Gentleman," the newcomer greeted them. August gave a grunt in return. The bartender started towards the man, but he shook his head.

"I'm only here to socialize, and I'd best be sober," he said, revealing a posh English accent not unlike Gavin's fathers.

Gavin knew something was off immediately. As he tried to place exactly what it was, the man continued.

"I take it by the smell of burning flesh on your clothes that the hunting is good today?"

"You a hunter?" August bluntly asked, looking doubtful.

"Of a sort." He laid his hands on the counter, lacing his fingers together and revealing a tattoo of a cross on the back of his hand. Gavin narrowed his eyes.

"I'm here on a mission," the man continued. "I'm looking to recruit able-bodied hunters to help my organization succeed in cleansing the world of monsters."

Gavin snorted, and the man raised a brow. He returned his attention to his sales pitch.

"I'm Arthur Ketch," he began.

"Aye," Gavin said gruffly. He picked up the shot of whiskey and threw it back. "I know who you are." As soon as he laid the shot glass on the counter, he drew his fist back and slammed it across Ketch's face, knocking him from the stool. Gavin stood and grabbed Ketch by the collar, slamming him against a table and throwing his fist across his face again.

"You lost your damn mind, boy?" August asked calmly, not bothering to move from his stool as he took another drink of beer and momentarily glanced away from the grainy football game on the TV above the bar. Just another day in a hunters dive.

"Nah," Gavin said, glaring at Ketch's bloody face. "But this is the bastard that tried to kill my sister. Attacked her at her own school dance."

"That right?" August scratched at the stubble on his face, returning his attention to the game. "Better go on and give 'im another one, then, just to get the point across."

Gavin drew his fist back, but Ketch caught it, jerking Gavin's arm forward and slamming his head against Gavin's. Gavin stumbled back and Ketch grabbed him by the back of the neck, slamming his face into the bar and twisting Gavin's arm behind him.

"So," Ketch said calmly. "You're the human son of the demon king of Hell. I was wondering when our paths would cross."

Gavin spat some blood out on the counter and stood upright, slamming his elbow into Ketch's chest. Ketch moved to the side smoothly, dodging Gavin's furious fist, and delivered a swift jab to Gavin's shoulder before downing him with a left hook. Gavin stumbled against a table, trying to catch his breath as Ketch took a step toward him.

The cock of a shotgun and the sound of a dozen hammers being pulled back coaxed Ketch to slow to a stop. He glanced around him to see that everyone in the bar had at least one gun trained on him.

August finished his beer before standing up, laying his .12 gauge over over his shoulder and leisurely walking over to the fight. "Now maybe you don't know a lot about us hunters here in the states," he drawled, almost lazily. "But you gotta understand one thing." He aimed his shotgun at Ketch. "We take care of our own."

Ketch wasn't a stupid man. He realized the position he was in, a dozen angry barrels pointed directly at him. Even he wouldn't walk away from that.

Calmly, he stood straight. "You realize his sister is one of the very monsters you're so keen on hunting?" he narrowed his eyes.

"Only monster I see is the one that attacked a kid. Now why don't you go on and get out of here before the more trigger happy ones get excited?"

Ketch paused, unsure of what his next move should be, before deciding to do as suggested. With one last look at Gavin, he turned and left the building. After a moment everyone returned to their activities of drinking and chatting, and August helped Gavin up.

"You alright kid?" he asked, clapping Gavin's back.

"Fine." Gavin spit some blood on the floor as he slid back onto the stool.

"You wanna tell me what that asshole was talking about?"

Gavin sighed, running his hands through his hair for a moment _. Cat's out of the bag now,_ he thought _. If Ketch doesn't kill you, there's a hell of a good chance these guys will._

"You've heard the rumors?" Gavin asked, taking a long pull of his beer. "About who my father is?"

"Heard a few things through the grapevine. You tellin' me there's some truth to that?"

"Some," Gavin agreed. "Long story, but the end is still the same: I'm human. Through and through. Cut me, I bleed. Get me drunk, I regret it in the morning. I'm just normal. As normal as a guy from a couple of centuries ago can be, I suppose." He finished his beer, and leaned back, running a hand over his tired face. "My sister's not."

"Not what?"

"Not human. Not completely. I've heard a bunch of different words for what she is. But above it all – all the powers she didn't ask for, the father she didn't choose, the life she never wanted – she's a normal person. She's seventeen and in high school. She worries about boys and school and normal stuff. But because of people like Ketch, she has to worry about people trying to kill her, or . . . . torture her, too." He shook his head. "She had to fight off _Lucifer_. She met God, and he _liked_ her. She's not bad, August, she's not this evil thing, she's . . ." Gavin trailed off, a lump in his throat as he stared ahead.

"She's family," August finally said, and Gavin swallowed and glanced at the older hunter, nodding. August leaned back, stretching.

"We got angels and devils and all sorts of crazy running 'round. Don't much see the harm in one little girl just trying to grow up as good as her brother." Gavin looked taken aback but August shrugged and continued, lifting his beer to his lips. "You have any more trouble with that Ketch ass, you give us a call."

"August . . ." Gavin began.

"Had a friend a mine once used to say something 'bout a coupla boys he took in," August continued, looking up and focusing on the game once again. "' _Family don't end in blood.'_ Now, I never had any kids of my own, but if I did – well, I reckon I'd want them to grow up to be as good a man as you are. We're family. All of us," he said, and Syd grunted in a half attentive agreement.

Gavin stared at the grizzled, older man, unsure of what to say. Gavin had never had a strong father figure, that much was for sure. What did you say to the man willing to lay his life on the life for you and yours?"

"August . . . thanks," Gavin finally said.

"Don't mention it. Now, shut up and let me watch the damn game in peace."

Gavin grinned, and signaled for another beer.


	24. Chapter 24

**So, this chapter and the chapter it leads into are getting published together. They're just something I've had in my mind for a really long time that I've been meaning to do - after all, the girls can't just sit around until Sam and Dean get out of jail. They've gotta take matters into their own hands ;)**

 **Enjoy chapters 24 and 25! Please remember to review both!**

* * *

Alex's heart was racing. Her throat felt constricted, and her stomach turned itself over in knots, a mess of nerves and fear. She fidgeted with one of the rings on her fingers nervously, staring out the car window at the house in front of her. It was a beautiful stone colonial, twice the size of Jody's farmhouse, with a well-tended lawn and beautiful garden beds. There was a large tree in the front yard that was shedding brilliant fall leaves, and a tire swing hung from one of the sturdy branches. The house was in the middle of a beautiful residential neighborhood, where all the neighbors smiled and waved as they passed by. A mother pushed a stroller as her husband walked a small dog. The entire place was beautiful, and it made Alex totally uncomfortably.

"I can't do this," she mumbled, her voice shaking. "I can't just go in there and completely wreck someone's life." She was going to be sick. She hadn't had anything to eat that day but she was still going to be sick, or pass out, or cry or all three . . .

She looked down as a warm hand grasped hers gently, grounding her. Kevin gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "You're not wrecking anyone's life," he told her, his steady voice reassuring. Alex took a deep breath, closing her eyes and concentrating on his voice. "This is what you've wanted for a long time."

"I don't belong here," Alex whispered.

"Why?"

"Kevin," Alex said, turning to look at him with wide, wet eyes. "Look at me."

Kevin glanced over her, but she looked the same as always to him. From her worn out Converse to her holy jeans, to the purple button-up and gray windbreaker she was wearing, she was simple and stunning and _Alex_. Kevin shook his head, unable to see whatever problem Alex was imagining.

"You look beautiful," he assured her. "Just like always."

Alex nervously glanced back at the house. There was a car in the driveway – a van – so someone was probably home. Alex bit her pinkie nail, unable to decide whether or not to exit Kevin's vehicle.

"We did just drive fourteen hours to get here," Kevin pointed out, and Alex sighed, taking a deep breath. "I'll be right here beside you," he reminded her, and Alex nodded as they got out of the car.

Alex looked up at the suddenly very intimidating house. She slowly made her way up the porch steps, rehearsing what she was going to say in her head. Kevin reached out and rang the doorbell.

"Hi, dad," Alex practiced under her breath. "It's me, your long lost daughter. Surprise. I'm not dead."

A boy a few years younger than Alex – maybe fifteen – opened the door. He looked Alex up and down, sliding off a pair of headphones. "Yeah?"

"Hi," Alex said nervously. "I'm, uh, I'm looking for Richard Jones?"

The kid stepped back inside, shouting. "Mom, there's some girl here looking for Rich!"

A moment later, a woman appeared in the doorway. She was tall and thin, with a short blonde bob and a kind face. She was dressed nicely, but had a dishrag in her hand, and she dried her hands as she approached. She looked partly confused, but still polite. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yeah, I mean, maybe," Alex said, feeling sicker by the second. _This was a mistake._ "I'm looking for Richard Jones."

"Rich isn't home right now, he's still at work," the woman said, checking her expensive watch. She looked from Alex to Kevin, still politely smiling. "He should be home soon. Was there a particular reason you were looking for him?"

When Alex didn't answer, Kevin cleared his throat. "We just need to talk to him, if that's okay. It's not an emergency or anything, just when he gets home –"

Alex swallowed, closing her eyes for a moment. "I'm his daughter." _Better to just be upfront._

The woman looked stunned, her eyes becoming larger as she took a startled step back. She looked Alex up and down, her hand flying to her mouth. Her beyond-shocked expression explained that she'd expected anything other than that. After a moment, she shakily removed her hand. "Annie?" she whispered, her expression almost terrified.

Alex could feel her breath hitch in her throat – why was she choking up? She didn't know this lady. "That's me," she confirmed as steadily as she could.

"Come – come in. I can't – God, I can't believe this. We thought you were . . ." Nancy ushered Alex and Kevin into the house, past the teenage boy, who looked curious. "Kyle, go upstairs."

"Why? What's going on?" he gave a nod at them. "Who're they?"

"Just – just go upstairs, honey. I'll be up in a bit."

Kyle rolled his eyes in annoyance but complied. Nancy led Alex and Kevin into the spacious living room. "Please, have a seat," she said, straightening some throw pillows as though the pristine home was a mess. "Can I get you something? Water, tea? I think we have some soda in the fridge."

"No, that's okay," Alex said, sitting awkwardly with Kevin on one of the plush sofas. The living room had a cozy feel to it – pictures sat on the mantle, showing the teenage boy, another younger boy, and a baby girl. Family portraits hung all over the house – not unlike Jody's house.

"I'll go call Rich," Nancy said, obviously trying to keep her composure. "Please – make yourself comfortable." She darted from the room nervously, cell phone in her hand. Alex took a deep breath, laying her face in her hands. Okay. So far they seemed nice enough. She wondered if this was a mistake – would this bring her father more heartache?

She started counting under her breath, and Kevin leaned into her slightly. "What're you doing?" he asked quietly.

"Counting exits," she murmured. "Six windows on the way in, front door, patio door behind us . . ."

"Alex . . ."

"I can't just sit like this." She stood abruptly, pacing the room as Kevin watched helplessly.

Alex paced back and forth, trying to come up with a plan. She frowned, however, upon noticing the large piano in the corner of the room. As she walked towards it, she noticed the pictures on top of the piano. There were a few of them, all Alex. One was her first birthday party, cake smeared all over her face and hands. The next one was from when she was only five years old, wearing a baseball uniform and holding up a third place trophy. Her dad was holding her up, beaming. The last photo was Alex's third grade school picture. Alex picked up the picture, staring at her younger self. The picture had been taken only a few weeks before she was taken.

Nancy came back into the room, holding a tray of lemonade, hands shaking. "Rich is on his way," she said breathlessly, setting the tray on the coffee table. "I didn't – I didn't tell him what was going on, I didn't want him to panic or . . ." She paused, noticing Alex replacing the picture, and her face changed into one of pain and overwhelming sadness. "He never gave up on you," she said quietly, dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. "He always said you were out there somewhere. And here you are." She covered her mouth, trying to stifle a sob. "It's a miracle. God has truly blessed us."

Alex and Kevin exchanged amused looks. "Yeah, I guess he kinda has," Alex smiled gently, sitting down again.

"Rich will be here soon, he was already on his way home. This is just . . . I can't believe it," Nancy breathed. "This whole time you've been alive and now . . . you're so grown up. I . . . I know it's not my place to ask, but . . . what happened?"

"It's a really long story," Alex replied honestly. "There's a . . . lot of pieces missing." Better than the truth, and not entirely untrue – there were a lot of things Alex had blocked out since finding Jody. She swallowed the growing knot in her throat. "Did . . . did my dad meet you after my mom . . .?"

Nancy looked sad again, laying her hand over her heart. "So, you know? About your mother?" When Alex nodded, Nancy continued. "I was his psychiatrist. After you . . . disappeared and your mother passed, he began regularly attending grief counseling and . . . goodness, it sounds so unprofessional, please, I hope you won't think less of me for it."

"N-no," Alex stammered quickly. "I'm happy he found someone." She looked at Kevin, who offered a small smile and squeezed her hand. She smiled weakly. "Everyone should have someone."

This made Nancy tear up all over again, excusing herself over and over, which made Alex uncomfortable. When Claire got upset, she cursed and broke things. Sara would lock herself in the basement until she was able to fight the aggression. Kevin would throw himself into some sort of project. None of them were criers.

Thankfully, the door opened, and a man's voice called out.

"Nancy? Nancy, what in the world is wrong, are you okay?" after receiving a phone call demanding he come home, Richard Jones sounded panicked after all, and came rushing into the living room.

Alex's breath caught. There were some differences – his hair was shorter and mostly gray, and he wore glasses now. Instead of the baseball t-shirts and jeans Alex was used to, he wore a pair of khaki's and a button up shirt. His green eyes were still the same shade as Alex's, and her heart squeezed. _Dad. My dad._ She fought the urge to throw herself into his arms.

"Richard," Nancy hiccuped, standing, and Alex stood too, not knowing what else to do as she stared at the one man she'd been waiting to see again since as long as she could remember. Richard was staring at Alex with a sense of bewilderment and confusion, as though he'd seen her before but he wasn't sure where. He glanced over her, examining her attire, posture, and finally her face. His eyes widened slightly. Alex was holding her breath – the room was so quiet, a pin dropping would have sounded like an atomic bomb.

 _Does he recognize me . . . ?_

"Annie?" her dad stammered, and Alex's eyes immediately welled with tears, unable to contain herself as she was hit with a strong wave of emotions. " _Annie?_ "

"Dad," she managed to choke out, stifling a sob.

Her father was sobbing, stumbling forward and grabbing her, holding her close to his chest. Alex immediately wrapped her arms around him, laying her head against his chest and breathing in his familiar scent. Tears were flowing opening from both of them, as well as Nancy, who stood off to the side hiccuping quietly. Kevin watched with a wistful expression.

"Annie, my Annie," Alex's dad cried, holding her tightly. He buried his face in her hair, glasses falling from his face without another thought. "My baby. You're here."

"I'm here," Alex agreed, half sobbing and half laughing. _This wasn't a mistake. He's happy to see me. He loves me._

Her father sank to the couch, still holding her, his legs no longer able to support him. He pulled away from Alex, taking her face in his hands, wiping her tears away. "How?" he rasped, hardly able to form words.

"It's a really long, crazy story," she hiccuped. "And I promise I'll tell you all of it, but for right now . . ." she sobbed again, smiling with joy. "Hi, dad."

He pulled her into another hug, and Alex laid her head on his shoulder, letting herself cry as she embraced her father for the first time in ten years.

* * *

Ben leaned back in the chair in Jody Mill's kitchen, stretching and forcing an over exaggerated yawn. Fergus, who had taken an immediate liking to the boy, laid at his feet, gnawing on a ham bone Ben had brought him.

"All this extra homework sure is tough work," Ben remarked.

"Try not getting suspended next time," Sara remarked, reading over Ben's essay and making some changes. Ben thought she was cute when she concentrated – her brow furrowed a little, and she looked so focused that he was convinced a bomb could go off and she'd hardly flinch. He leaned farther back, crossing his arms and grinning.

Sara could feel his eyes on her. "What?" she asked without looking up.

"We should take a break."

"We just took a break."

"A longer break."

Sara sighed, setting down the pen and looking at him, arching an eyebrow. "You're distracting."

" _I'm_ distracting? Have you seen yourself?" He tugged gently on a lock of her hair, twirling it around his fingers. "How the hell am I supposed to concentrate on some old dead guys when there's an alive girl like _you_ sitting beside me?"

"Flatterer," she muttered, glancing at her phone and frowning.

"What's wrong?" Ben asked, noticing her concerned look.

"No idea." She answered, pressing the phone to her ear. "Camille?" she listened for a moment, her frown deepening. "No, we can do an increase, but only by a bit. Stay in the double digits. If you go any higher than that, you'll have to run it by dad first. Well . . . alright, but no higher than one fifty, and keep it spread out. We've lost four crossroads this month due to recklessness. That should work. Alright, see you then." She hung up, rubbing her temples.

"You ever gonna tell anyone else besides for me that you're secretly running Hell?" Ben asked, taking a drink of his soda.

"Probably. Maybe. Eventually." She sighed, sitting up. "How are you not freaked out?"

"Because it's how the world works," Ben shrugged, closing his history book. "If it's the way things are gonna be, might as well have someone competent in charge, right?"

"Well . . . I suppose," Sara admitted begrudgingly. She checked her phone for messages, sighing. "It's been a week, and still nothing on Sam and Dean. I asked my father to look into, but I know he's not doing his best. The Winchesters are sort of a pain in his ass."

"They're a pain in everyone's ass," Claire commented as she entered the room, opening the fridge. "This has been the quietest week ever."

"Have you heard from Castiel?"

"Gavin just met with him last night – they're still looking, but so far bumpkiss," Claire said, leaning against the counter as she twisted the top off of a soda. "Mary's been getting the word out to the hunter community, but right now she's in Louisiana, working a werewolf thing." She took a drink of soda and sighed. "I know fall break is supposed to be, like, relaxing or whatever – but honestly I'm kinda bored. Alex and Kevin are road-tripping, Gavin's with his hunting buddies – when do we get a piece of action?"

"No action for me, thanks," Sara said, closing her text book, and Ben silently praised God that study time was over.

The kitchen phone rang, and Sara reached behind her, picking it up and seeing Sheriff Donn Hanscum's number on the caller ID.

"Donna," Sara greeted her.

"Hey, kiddo! How ya been?"

"Can't complain," Sara said, leaning back in her chair. "What's up with you?"

"Well, I tried calling Jody first, but her phone has been busy all day . . ."

"She's on the phone nonstop when she's not working," Sara explained. "When she's not looking for leads on Sam and Dean, she's playing FBI director." She frowned. "Is everything alright?"

"Well, I'm not so sure. I've got a case, but I don't have the time to look into it and its relatively close to ya'll. What with Sam and Dean not being around, all the hunters have a lot on their plate . . ."

Sara hesitated, glancing at Claire, who was in a competition with Ben to see who could balance the most pencils on their noses. Things _were_ awfully quiet, and Alex would be back sometime tomorrow, giving them plenty of time to prepare.

"Send me the details," Sara replied. "We'll check it out."


	25. Chapter 25

**Prepare accordingly for this chapter! The girl's are checking out Donna's case from last chapter, and there are some surprises along the way.**

 **It's ridiculously long, outrageously silly, and just something I've wanted to do for a really long time. Please let me know what you think, and if you're interested in more chapters like this!**

* * *

"Nestled along the outskirts of the peaceful town of Montpelier, Idaho lies a dark secret, a permanent stain on the county's otherwise spotless reputation. For this is where Emerald Mountain Psychiatric Hospital for the Mentally Ill stands. Opened in 1876, it was the home to those who were unlucky enough to be declared mentally insane . . . or worse, criminally insane. Rumors surrounding the hospital claim that over a thousand lives were lost in the span of ten years alone, and that the hospital is now one massive unmarked grave. According to rumors, the hospital was never quiet, always filled with the screams of the innocent and the laughter of the insane. Riots were common, and by far the bloodiest conflict was the 1953 riot, which lasted almost a week and was the death of thirty-eight patients and sixteen staff members. Now, on the anniversary of that riot, we will delve into the despicable past of the asylum, and –"

"Harry, check it out. Someone graffitied boobies on the wall."

Harry Spengler huffed, lowering the camcorder he was holding, and turned to face his friend.

"Ed!" he complained. "You completely ruined the immersion of it."

"Dude, sorry, but look." Ed grinned and pointed at the wall again, where a crude pair of breasts had been outlined in red spray paint. "Boobies."

"The only boobies you'll ever see," Harry grumbled, shouldering his duffle bag full of ghost-hunting supplies. "Look, when we decided to get the Ghostfacers back together –"

"Which I am _so_ psyched about, by the way!" Ed exclaimed. "Actual ghost hunting, none of that urban legend creepypasta shit. This is _real_."

"I'm serious, man," Harry continued. "When we decided to get the Ghostfacers back together, we said we were going to be a serious group. The real deal. You think we're going to make it in this career because of our pretty faces? Huh? No. That's what Zak Bagans is for." He looked around in annoyance. "Where are the others anyway?"

"They went to get take out," Ed said, leaving behind his beloved graffitied breasts to set up a night vision camera facing the door of the old asylum. Emerald Mountain was old, it was true, and notoriously haunted. What had caught Ed's attention, though, was that twelve people had gone missing since the closure of the asylum in 1977. All twelve people had been trespassing – which technically Ed and his friends were doing now – on the anniversary of the riot that had claimed so many lives. When he discovered this rumor, he had called up Harry. The two of them had a rather tense relationship after what happened with the whole Thinman fiasco, but this is just what they needed to bring them together – a _real_ ghost case.

"So what's the story on this place?" Harry asked, putting his hands on his hips and looking up at the huge building. It was massive, made of dark red stone with black windows and doors, most of which were barred or boarded up. Paint peeled from the shutters, and ivy and other plants grew wild along and up the building. The entire building was hidden on an overgrown back road and protected by a (easily penetrable) chain length fence. "Is the rumor true? Did it get shut down because the doctors were performing experiments on the patients?"

"Nah," Ed said, digging through his equipment. "Health inspector shut it down. Asbestos."

"We'll leave that part out of the documentary."

A shutter slammed in the wind, startling the boys, who laughed uncomfortably. The building looked particularly creepy in the dimming evening light, and Harry was reminded of something out of _Scooby Doo._

"Got the salt?"

"Right here," Ed said, holding up a large canister of kitchen salt. There were several others in one of the bags, as well as some iron crosses and other dramatic props. Harry and Ed were determined to make this their big break.

The rumbling of a van broke the silence, and the official Ghostfacers tour van (i.e., Ed's mom's old Odyssey) parked under the cover of some trees. Maggie, Travis, and AJ excited the van, carrying Chinese takeout containers and various bags of equipment.

"This better not be a bust, Ed," Maggie told her brother sharply. "I'm missing two derby's this 'reunion special.'"

"It's not a bust!" Ed argued. "I did the research and talked to the locals. This place is totally the real deal."

After they ate and finished setting up their equipment, they all met in the lobby of the asylum. It smelled of dust and decay, and the place had been vandalized for years. It was trashed with empty beer cans, cigarette butts, and other garage from the past 40 years. Maggie looked disgusted, and more and more skeptical about being here. Ed swallowed nervously, hoping desperately this place was the real thing. If not, he'd _never_ live it down. There'd be no coming back from it.

"Alright," Harry said, taking charge of the situation despite his racing heartbeat. "We'll take it by wing. We can start with the hospital wing before moving on to the criminal wing. Everyone have their radios? Cameras? Night vision?"

A murmur of agreement came from the group, and Harry gave a nod. "Alright. Let's do this."

Even if the building wasn't haunted, it was eerie, and dangerous – spots in the floor had rotted, and ceiling beams hung broken and creaking, a constant threat. As soon as they began moving up the stairs, they could hear banging above them, and Maggie swore to anyone that would listen to her that she could hear an angry voice curse at her.

Ed was totally and completely freaked out, but also ecstatic – he was right! The place was haunted. He was on the road to rebuilding his partnership – and friendship – with Harry.

"Alright," Harry said, smoothing his hair and standing in what he thought was a confident position leaned against the wall but actually made him look awkward. "Are we good?"

Ed glanced at the camera he was holding, making sure Harry was in the shot, and gave a nod. "Three . . . two . . . one . . ." he pointed at Harry, who pushed off the wall casually (stumbling).

"Here we are in the North wing of Emerald Mountain," Harry said, walking slowly so that Ed could get a clear shot of their surroundings. "From the moment we entered, our team could feel a strong presence. Here in this wing, the mentally ill were treated for everything from schizophrenia to simple madness. Treatments were often dangerous and painful, and they say if you listen carefully, you can still hear the wailing of the patients. One of the patients, who lived in the very room we stand in front of, was none other than Susie Knotts, an eight year old girl who had spells of paranoia and anger so violent, even the adult nurses – as well as her own parents – were scared of her. She was dropped off here at the age of six, and never left, dying after an inmate went berserk and pushed her down the stairs. Many say if you try to speak with her, she'll react with anger and throw a tantrum. We're going to try to contact her now."

He dramatically opened the door, letting it creak open. After they all entered, they closed it behind them. The room was a disaster. More graffiti covered the walls. A filthy mattress sat in the corner, across from it an ancient cracked vanity. The room was completely silent, and Harry entered and stood in the middle of the room, holding up a poorly made EMF reader. The machine whirred, lighting up red, and Harry gave a nod to Ed.

"Susie," Harry started. "Are you here? Can you speak to me?"

There was nothing but silence.

"My name is Harry," he began again. "And this is Ed and Maggie. Tell me, Susie – are you angry? Are you angry that we're trespassing?"

There was a loud banging noise from somewhere nearby, and Maggie squeaked with a quiet scream while Ed fumbled with the camera he almost dropped.

"Susie," Ed stuttered nervously. "Can you g-give us a sign?"

"I hear something," Maggie whispered, and Ed whipped the camera around to her. She was staring wide eyed at the door. Whispers could be heard from the other side of it.

". . .think it was here . . ." one of the voices said.

The Ghostfacers watched with wide eyes as the doorknob slowly turned.

"I'm getting it," Ed whispered, eyes the size of dinner plates. "I'm getting it all on camera."

Harry reached down and picked a can of salt up from Maggie's equipment bag, unscrewing the lid as the door slowly began to creak open.

Ed, Harry, and Maggie were suddenly blinded with light, screaming as they were faced with two other otherworldly, ghostly faces. Harry threw up the can of salt as he screamed, "BE GONE, EVIL SPIRITS!" and backed away desperately.

"What the hell?!"

As their eyes adjusted, they realized the people in front of them weren't unworldly or ghosts – it was just a couple of teenage girls. One was blonde, her hair braided back from her face on one side. The other one was a brunette who was holding a flashlight, looking confused. The blonde was spitting salt out of her mouth and rubbing it from her face, as that's where it'd just been thrown.

Harry huffed angrily. "It's just a couple of kids!" he complained.

"Who throws salt, you asshole?" the blonde snapped, rubbing her eyes. It was only then that Harry noticed the sawed off she had tucked into her jacket pocket, along with the iron crowbar in the other girl's hands.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "This is our turf. We were here first."

The brunette narrowed her eyes. " _What?_ "

"There's only room for one ghost hunting crew in this building," Ed defended his friend. "You two get lost. We don't need the competition."

"What's going on down there?" a voice called from down the hall.

"A coupla douchebags with cameras," the blonde called over her shoulder, and a moment later another teenage girl, this one a redhead, appeared, also holding a flashlight.

"Great," Ed said in annoyance. "They're three teenage girls, and they have one that's British. Why don't we have someone interesting on the team?"

"Maggie is Japanese," Harry said.

"She's _adopted_." As Maggie glared at her brother, Ed turned back to the girls. "What are you doing here? This is no place for kids."

"We're not the ones screaming like a bunch of little girls," the redhead pointed out.

"This place is seriously haunted, you know. The second we came in here we could already hear angry voices and thumping," Harry said, trying to scare them.

"Yeah, that was me, idiot," the blonde rolled her heavily lined eyes. "I hit my head on a low doorframe."

"But . . . this place is supposed to be the most haunted place in the state!" Ed defended himself as Harry and Maggie turned to glare at him suspiciously.

"It's a load of crap, we heard the same thing," the blonde said, crossing her arms.

"Claire," the redhead started.

"Besides, what makes you qualified to handle this kinda thing?" Claire, apparently, continued. "Have you ever _seen_ a ghost?"

"Claire," the redhead tried again.

"Hey, we're the Ghostfacers!" Ed retorted. "We're the best ghost hunting team in the United States! Maybe in the world!"

"Never heard of you," Claire shrugged one shoulder.

"Everyone shut up!" the redhead shouted, and everyone did so, looking at her in silence, the only sound the constant drip of the rain.

"Alex," the redhead said quietly. "Was it supposed to rain tonight?"

"No," the brunette, Alex, frowned. "Why? Sara, what's wrong?"

"When was the last time this building had plumbing?"

"Not since the 80s."

"Then where is that dripping coming from?"

Slowly, it dawned on them all – the sound had no source. Slowly, Sara turned, and all three girls lifted their flashlights. A large, brutish man, whose face was covered by layers of greasy hair, stood before them. He wore a hospital gown stained with red, and the sound of the dripping was from the thick layer of blood that had accumulated on the blade of the rusted machete he held.

No one moved – not the girls, not the Ghostfacers, not even the spirit lingering before them. After a moment, though, he grinned, revealing rows of rotten yellow teeth as he lifted the machete above his head.

Claire lifted the sawed off, pulling the trigger and watching the phantom disappear into a cloud of smoke and salt.

"Run," she said, cocking the shotgun, and the others scrambled to get out of the room, Harry and Ed practically climbing over the girls as they ran down the stairs. Claire brought up the rear, herding the group down the stairs. As she was about to move down the stairs herself, though, the ghost reappeared, raising a giant fist and knocking the gun out of Claire's hand. Claire backed up slowly, reaching her hand into her back pocket, fingers wrapping around cool metal.

The spirit was closing in on her, and she sneered. "Not today, ugly," she remarked, making a fist and catching the spirit with a fierce left hook, the pair of iron knuckles she wore slamming him back into a cloud of smoke. Claire mounted the banister of the stairs, sliding down it and joining the others.

"Where'd you get those?" Alex asked, glancing at the iron knuckles as Claire flexed her fingers.

"Found 'em in the Chevelle," Claire shrugged. "Must of been Bobby's. Dude knew how to hunt. Hey, Poltergeist Pals," she called, getting the attention of Harry and Ed and tossing them a canister of salt. "Found that in your bag. You know how to use it or what?"

"Obviously we know how to use it," Harry rolled his eyes and catching the canister.

"Well, are you gonna do it, or are you just gonna stand there and be ghost bait?" Claire asked sweetly, before rolling her eyes and turning to her own duffle bag. "How's the EMF?"

"Off the charts," Alex reported, using a much more sophisticated EMF reader than the ones Harry and Ed used.

"Here, let me help," Sara offered Harry, picking up a can of salt of her own and smiling kindly. Harry gave a curt nod as they began making a large circle around the others, meeting in the middle and admiring their handy work briefly.

"We just wanted to get some good footage," Harry sighed. He looked at her, puzzled. "You guys don't even have cameras. Where's all your equipment?"

Sara opened her mouth to reply, but was stopped by Alex calling for her. She smiled apologetically before joining her foster sister.

"We've got more ghosts than we can handle with this amount of civilians," Alex murmured, glancing at her tablet. She had the history of the hospital saved on there, and was looking through it again. "And there's another problem – all the patients here were cremated when they died. Less than two hundred were buried."

"Is there any record on the ones that were buried?" Claire asked.

"No. At least, none that I can find."

"What about the office?" Sara suggested. "Is there any chance the records would still be here?"

Alex hesitated. "It's a long shot. But the place was abandoned pretty quickly. They might've left them behind."

"Right, so that's where we'll check first," Sara said, and Claire gave a nod. She looked back at the Ghostfacers, rolling her eyes.

"Alright, boyscouts," she said, and they glared at her. "We're going to find the office. You stay here and don't leave the circle."

"You can't just leave us here!" Maggie complained.

"You'll be safer," Sara reasoned. "We have weapons, and protection. You stay here and make sure no kids try to sneak in."

The girls gathered their things are started up the stairs, armed with flashlights, salt rounds, and determination. The stairs creaked beneath their feet, and upstairs Sara was sure she could hear little footsteps.

They were almost to the top when Claire stepped on a rotten board. She let out a string of curses as she fell, her foot stuck in the splintered planks.

"Are you okay?" Sara demanded, carefully joining her.

"Fine," Claire grimaced. "Just stuck. Help me outta here."

Alex leaned down, pulling away some of the boards that were soft enough to break away. When she had made a hole large enough to remove Claire's foot, she gently took Claire's leg in her hand and pulled.

Claire cursed again, gasping. "Shit," she breathed, gritting her teeth.

"Is it broken?" Sara asked, eyes wide with worry.

"No," Claire said through a clenched jaw. "Just twisted is all, I think. Just give me a sec . . ." after a moment she pulled herself up, leaning against the banister, and gingerly tested her weight on her ankle. Her knee shook and gave out, and Sara caught her.

"Dammit!" Claire snapped.

"You _must_ have broken it," Alex said. "Let's get you out of here, we can come back tomorrow –"

"Tomorrow might be too late, if any other kids show up here," Claire argued. She huffed. "Leave me with Egon and Ray down there. You two get to the office, get the records, and come straight back."

Sara and Alex hesitated, not scared for their safety but for Claire's well being, and helped her down the stairs.

"She hurt her ankle," Sara explained to the others, helping Claire to sit on the ground. "Watch out for her – Alex and I are going back up."

"Wait!" Harry said, moving towards them. "Ed and I can help you. We've got the entire layout of the place memorized, we know the quickest way to get you there and back." He hesitated. "Besides," he added. "This isn't the first time we've done this."

Sara raised her eyebrows, looking at Alex, who shrugged.

"Alright," Sara said. "But stay close."

Ed and Harry glanced at the rest of the Ghostfacers – and a sneering Claire – and tried to give them brave, reassuring looks, even though Harry was secretly on the verge of panic. He and Ed exchanged a solemn nod before following Sara and Alex up the stairs, carefully.

"How are your super powers against ghosts?" Alex murmured to Sara, sweeping her flashlight back and forth in front of her to avoid rats and rotten floorboards.

"Dunno," Sara replied, her own flashlight pointed upwards. "Never tried it."

"Might get to tonight."

"I know." Sara looked at Alex and grinned. "Exciting, isn't it?"

Alex rolled her eyes but grinned nonetheless, and Ed and Harry exchanged confused shrugs.

Meanwhile, downstairs the rest of the Ghostfacers were arguing.

"We can't leave!" Maggie was angrily telling Travis and AJ, who were packing up their equipment. "This is the best case we've ever been on!"

"The other cases we went on had floaty orbs and over exaggerated EVP," Travis retorted, shoving his tripod into its carrying case as AJ nodded in agreement. "Not huge knife-wielding psychopaths."

"If you two walk out that door," Maggie raised her voice as they finished packing up. "Consider yourself off the team."

"Fine by me," AJ shrugged. "My uncle said I could have a job at his used car lot. C'mon, Travis, maybe he can find something for you, too."

They stepped outside the salt circle, heading for the door while Maggie looked conflicted. However, as they approached the door, it slammed shut, locking. Travis and AJ pulled at it, kicking it a few times. They looked at each other nervously before they scrambled back to the salt circle.

Claire snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Great, now we're stuck!" Travis complained, voice borderline hysterical.

"This is all your fault, Maggie," AJ accused her harshly. "You were the one that said we should all do the reunion show!"

"Everyone shut up!" Claire snapped. "Don't you hear that?"

As their voices died, it could be plainly heard – footsteps creaking on the floor. And they were coming closer. Shakily, Maggie lifted her flashlight, the beam of light flickering long enough to reveal their breath in the air as the room grew steadily colder. Then the light went out completely.

"Is everyone in the circle?" Claire asked quietly, relieved when she heard murmurs of agreement. One set of footsteps became two, two became three, until Claire was sure they were surrounded. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she suppressed a shiver, fondling the trigger of the shotgun. Raspy, rattling breathing could be heard to the left of her, and Claire swung the barrel of the sawed off around, firing a shot.

The salt round tore right through the opaque body of a long dead patient, and in the brief flash of sparks from its dissipation Claire could see three other ghosts, trying to work their way into the circle. She couldn't tell if their moans and sharp, guttural noises were threats – or a desperate plea for help.

Either way, she wasn't going to get chatty and find out. Wrapping her hand around the handle of a crowbar, she slashed it through the air, causing another spirit to disappear in a shower of smoke and sparks. She fired off a few more shots blindly, trying to steady her breathing as silence fell over the room.

A heavy hand fell on her shoulder, and eyes wide, Claire spun around, dropping the gun and cursing and attacking with her fists.

The assailant grunted in pain as her fist connected solidly, and seized her wrists. "Would you cut it out?" they hissed.

Claire was practically panting from adrenaline, eyes wide. "Gavin?"

Grimacing, he switched on a maglight, rubbing his shoulder gingerly and glaring at Claire accusingly.

Claire sighed in relief. "I thought you were a ghost, dummy!" she said, hitting him in the other shoulder, though softer this time. "What are you doing here? I told you we were handling it!"

"Every time you three try to 'handle' something the world almost ends," he said, setting the light down in the middle of the circle so everyone could see. In the dim light, Claire was able to see his face clearly, and frowned at the large, flowering bruise on his cheek and the shallow cut above his left eye.

"What happened?" she asked, her tone sounding more accusatory than concerned.

His jaw was set in a straight line, and he didn't meet her eyes. "Nothing. I fell."

"Into someone's fist?"

"Claire." He gave her a look, and she arched an eyebrow. Oh, they'd _so_ be discussing it later.

"How'd you even get in here?" Claire huffed, looking around. All the doors and windows were still firmly closed, and Gavin pointed up.

"Hole in the attic," he told her. "This place is crawling with EMF."

"We know," everyone replied in unison, and Gavin frowned, seemingly just now noticing the others.

"Who are they?"

"Morons," Claire said, earning several glares from the others.

"Right. And you're with them, because . . .?"

"I think I broke my stupid ankle," she grumbled, rubbing the sore spot. The pain was still throbbing, and she could probably force herself to run if need be, but she still wouldn't be able to move very quickly.

Gavin looked concerned, but quickly frowned, looking around as though he'd lost something. "Oh, where did that bloke go?"

"What bloke?"

"Ben."

"You brought Ben?!"

Gavin looked offended that Claire would think he'd do such a thing. "Of course not. He followed you here, same as me. We just happened to be breaking in at the same time. Good lad, him. I almost knocked him out when I saw him creeping about but then he told me who he was and he did have a gun, so –"

Claire gave an angry grunt of frustration. "Go find him, you lunatic! He has no idea what he's doing!"

"Oi, tell that to his gun!"

" _Go!_ "

* * *

"This is _so_ much better than the film we got in New Orleans in '09." Ed was giddy as he swung his camera from side to side, trying to catch anything and everything creepy or paranormal.

"Actual full spectral forms with no special effects or anything!" Harry agreed, swinging his flashlight in a trail behind the camera.

Alex and Sara exchanged eye rolls.

"How'd you guys get started with this anyway?" Harry asked, and Ed turned the camera on the girls. "You're about the same age we were when we started."

"It's a family thing," Alex hushed him. "Put the cameras down, you're practically _begging_ for attention from things we don't want attention from."

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Sara demanded as they passed a broken pillar that looked familiar.

"We . . . may have taken a detour for some extra footage," Ed admitted, and the girls stopped, turning to glare at them.

Sara stepped toward Harry, and despite her age was already much taller than him. She glared down at him. "Look, I don't know what you people like to do in your spare time, but for us, this is an in-and-out job. So put us in the right direction, or so help me, I'll make you one of those ghosts you're so fond of."

"Whoa," Harry breathed. "That was _terrifying_. Ed, did you get all that? Talk about drama!"

"I got it," Ed said, nodding from behind his camera.

Sara slapped the camera out of his hand. "Hey!" Ed squeaked, swooping and picking it up.

"Shh!" Alex hissed.

"Tell _her_ , she hit my camera –!"

"Seriously, shut up," Alex said, holding her hand up. "Listen."

Quietly, everyone listened as an ominous whistling came from down the long, dark hallway before them. Sara and Alex exchanged glances, and Alex lifted her gun as Sara slid around the corner, leaning against the wall as the whistling grew closer. Wanting an advantage, and knowing Sara's senses would be enough, Alex cut the lights and waited patiently as the whistling came closer.

Sara could hear the footsteps grow close, and knew that whatever it was following them was nearly upon her. With a deep breath, she struck out, wrapping her hand around the throat of their stalker. She lifted them off the ground with ease, slamming them into the wall and pinning them there as they struggled against her. Alex immediately pointed her gun in the face of the intruder and Harry flipped on a flashlight.

Sara's eyes widened in surprise. "Ben?"

"Hey, Red," he coughed, still pinned to the wall above them by Sara's hand. "Little help?"

Sara released him, grabbing his shoulder as he rubbed his throat, taking a few deep breaths.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't realize –" she began, but Ben was chuckled, pushing himself up. He grinned.

"Love a girl who's stronger than me," he winked, and Sara rolled her eyes, relieved he was unharmed but annoyed he was here.

"What are you doing here?"

"You lifted that guy off the ground!" Ed was screaming.

"How did you _do_ that?" Harry was demanding.

"Ah . . . pilates?" Sara suggested, helping Ben up. She looked at him, shaking her head. "Seriously, what're you doing here?"

"What, you said you were checking out some abandoned asylum in Idaho," Ben shrugged. "Not a lot of those, it was easy to figure out which one it was."

"And you thought going around whistling would be safe?" Alex demanded.

"It was a coping thing! This place is creepy as hell." He gave Sara a lopsided grin. "It's kinda cool, though. And look." He waved his sawed off. "Brought my own gun."

"How'd you even get in here?" Alex frowned.

"Easy, just followed Gavin."

"Gavin?"

"There you are." Sara wasn't even as surprised as she should have been as her brother suddenly jogged up to them, out of breath. "I've been looking all over this damn place," Gavin huffed, standing straight and giving Ben a nod. "Glad you're still in one piece."

"I knew it!" Harry suddenly exclaimed. "I knew it – you _are_ a ghost hunting team! You've had a whole team this whole time! You're just trying to throw us off so that you guys can take the best spots in the asylum! Well, I don't care if your team is more badass or made up of cool international students or hotter than we are! We've got experience on our side!"

"Hotter?" Ed asked, looking hurt.

Gavin jerked a thumb at them. "Who're these arseholes?"

"It's _so_ not important," Alex interjected. "Can we please just get to the office and find those files? This place smells, and it's freezing, and I want to get home before next week. So get a move on!"

"She's scary when she's bossy," Ben muttered to Sara as they continued through the asylum, and Sara stifled a grin. Moving as a large group felt safer, but Sara also was suddenly consumed with worry. Ben have never been on a hunt before, and this place was crawling with ghosts – she grimaced as Alex exploded an inmate with a salt round and Gavin slammed another in the head with a crowbar, all while Ed and Harry screamed like girls.

"Hey," Alex said, nudging Sara after a moment and pointing at the end of a hallway. There was an ancient door with a grimy, frosted window with the word "office" in peeling paint across it. It also had a barred door pulled down over it.

"How are we supposed to get through that?" Harry whispered, glancing at the barred door. Ed approached and examined it.

"I got it," he said, nodding. "I'm going to need a pair of pliers, a bit of C4, and a welding gun . . ."

"Sara?" Gavin requested, watching their backs.

She pushed Ed aside, examining the bars and grabbing hold on either side. With one strong yank, the bars were pulled from the wall, leaving a gap of stone and wooden debris where they'd once been attached the wall. She leaned the bars against the wall, grabbed the door handle, and crushed it. The door swung open.

Everyone was quiet for a few long moments.

"What kind of pilates did you say those were again?" Ed asked quietly.

Sara gave him a small smile before pushing the door open further. Everyone flipped on their flashlights.

The office was old, worn, but mostly intact. Covered in thick layers of dust and smelling of rotten furniture, it looked similar to how it would have been left – there was still a coat hanging on a rack, thought it was holy and discolored, and several large filing cabinets. With little finagling from Gavin, the cabinet opened. Gavin held the flashlight as Alex leafed through the remaining files.

"Here's the files on the deceased patients," Alex said, lifting a large, heavy stack of folders onto the desk.

"Great," Sara said, watching the door. "See if there's anything about a knife-wielding maniac."

"We're still trapped in here," Harry reminded her. "What are we supposed to do even if we do find out who the ghost is? How do we get rid of him?"

"With any luck he'll be buried in the hospital's cemetery," Alex said without looking up from the files. "If we can get someone outside we can torch him."

An eerie silence settled over the group, the only noise the sound of pages turning as Alex searched through the files. Sara moved towards the barred window. The cemetery laid directly below them – there were dozens of graves, stones of all shapes and sizes spread across the overgrown grounds. She swung her flashlight around, the unnatural stillness of the place making her uneasy. She frowned as something on the wall gleamed in the beam of her light – an ancient, ornate frame, she realized, holding the degree of one Dr. James Kramer. Frames displaying awards and certificates were displayed, as well as photos of Dr. Kramer with his patients. In one photo, he played chess with a wheelchair bound man with scars across his face. In another, Kramer was offering a teddy bear to a little girl getting a check up. In yet another, Kramer sat at the bedside of a sickly old woman. Both were laughing, and Kramer had a book in his hand, as though he were reading to her.

"Whoever our ghost is, I don't think we'll find the vengeful spirit of the Doctor here," Sara mentioned.

"Kramer?" Harry asked, double checking the salt lines in the room. "Doubtful. These patients were his life. Even after the riots that eventually helped shut the place down."

"Let's hear more about this riot," Ben said, joining Sara to look over the photos and certificates. "The big one."

"It's your standard uprising against authority," Harry shrugged. "Back then, a lot of the patients here were actually just criminals who were being treated for insanity. Eventually there were more of them than there was actually sick people. A group of the real rowdy ones attacked other patients and staff. There was upward of – what? Fifty deaths?"

"All together," Ed confirmed, looking nervous to be talking about such a touchy subject in this particular place. "Almost forty patients were killed; mostly innocent, crazy folk who got caught up in the crowd. A little girl who was trying to get away got thrown down the stairs and died. It took almost four days to take the hospital back." He nodded at the photos on the wall. "That head doctor guy, Kramer? His daughter was one of the nurses here that was killed. Still didn't give up on those patients. 'Til it got shut down in '77, anyway."

Sara was only half attentive to what Harry was saying as she found one last photo, sitting on top of the filing cabinet. Frowning, Sara picked it up. It was a group photo of thirty or so people. Most were in some sort of medical attire – men in white lab coats and women in nurses uniforms. A few groundskeepers stood in the back. Sara's frown deepened as she squinted, finding one of the faces in the back eerily familiar . . .

"Alex," Sara said, not taking her eyes off the photo. "Try checking the employees file."

After a moment of digging around, Alex pulled a stack of folders out of the cabinet, laying them on the desk. Sara joined her, shuffling through the files before pulling one aside from the others, opening it wide enough for everyone to see. She tapped the photograph in the file. "There."

The photo, old and faded, showed a large man with long, dark hair slicked back off his face. He didn't smile for the staff photo, like the other members of the staff, but glowered at the camera instead.

"Gotcha," Sara murmured.

"That's our man," Alex agreed, reading over the file. "Gene Marko. Worked as grounds keeper here from 1938 to his death in 1953." She glanced up at the others. "Killed in the riot."

"Why would a groundskeeper haunt the place he worked?" Gavin frowned. "Why not his own home?"

"This _was_ his home – even before he was an employee, he was a patient," Alex frowned, continuing to read. "He was dropped off as a baby and grew up here. There's a whole psych analysis here on him. Mute, violent tendencies, occasional outbursts. Never hurt any of the patients, though – he was protective of them, almost to the point of obsession. They gave him a job when he was old enough to work. He was murdered during the riot while trying to help reclaim the hospital."

"It would explain his hatred for trespassers," Sara realized.

"All of the people who have gone missing over the years were all on the property illegally," Ed added.

"He might've seen them as threats," Ben agreed.

"The same way he sees us," Alex pointed out. "There are a lot of trapped spirits here – but maybe they're being forced to stay here."

"Marko's protective," Sara said slowly, coming to the same conclusion. "He's still trying to protect the patients. No one gets in . . ."

"No one gets out," Gavin finished grimly.

There was a scream from downstairs, and Gavin's eyes widened. "Claire!" he shouted, shoving past Harry and Ed and running from the room. Quickly gathering their items, the others followed. Sara glanced at Ben to make sure he was keeping up; with her keen vision, even in the dark she could see him wink at her; he was enjoying the thrill. Sara rolled her eyes, annoyed because she was, too.

They arrived back downstairs to find the rest of the Ghostfacers cowering. Claire was holding a shotgun, glowering at them as she brushed her jacket off.

"What happened?" Gavin demanded, looking her up and down for injuries. "We heard you scream."

Claire snorted, jerking her thumb at Travis. "Wasn't me. Nancy Drew here freaked out when Fergus started chasing rats."

With a loud bark at his name, the sound of nails scrambling across wood emerged from the shadows, the large, pitch black hound running towards them, red eyes blazing and a bloody, dead rat in his mouth.

Sara gave a little gasp of relief, bending down as the dog slowed to a trot as he approached her. "There you are, you silly boy," she cooed, and the demonic dog wagged his stub of a tail happily as she fondled his ears. "You naughty boy, running off like that, you scared me!"

Gavin frowned, shining the light over Fergus. "Is he wearing a pink collar?" he demanded.

"It's his favorite color," Sara said defensively.

"It's _your_ favorite color," Gavin retorted. "It makes him look like a sissy."

Sara gasped and covered Fergus's ears, glaring at Gavin. "Don't you dare tell me how to raise my child."

"Great," Harry said, annoyed. "They even have a dog. We're local cable ghost chasers, and they're IRL _Scooby-Doo._ "

"You think that thing is a dog?!" Travis demanded, still looking horrified. Sara shot him an offended glare before turning back to the hound.

"Did you find anything good?" Sara asked, stroking the dog's soft head.

Fergus made a deep rumbling in his throat, and tossed the rat up in the air before capturing it once again in his deadly, powerful jaws. The sound of flesh ripping and bones crunching turned a few stomachs as Fergus swallowed his prize in a few bites. Licking the blood from his lips, he turned and started back into the shadows.

"He _has_ found something," Sara said in surprise. She glanced at her friends, shrugging. "Could be a way out."

"Or another rats nest," Claire muttered, following at a slight limp, her ankle still giving her trouble.

"You're actually following it?" Ed demanded.

"We've got ammo, weapons out the ass, several hunters, and a hell hound," Alex called over her shoulder. "We'll be fine."

"Hell hound?" AJ asked quietly, following, while Harry and Ed were looking at each other with realization. They groaned.

"Hunters!" Harry complained, following the group. "We shoulda known it was hunters! Just like those other two assholes."

"Gee, wonder who they're talking about," Sara muttered to Alex, who laughed.

Gavin fell behind the group with Claire, taking her hand. "Hey," he said, getting her attention. "Wait a moment."

"We don't have time to fool around," Claire chastised him. Then she frowned, checked her watch, and shrugged. "Well, we've probably got a _few_ minutes . . ."

"No," Gavin said, shaking his head. "Here. Sit down." He made her to sit on a table and he leaned down, sliding Claire's Converse off and examining her ankle in the dim light of the flashlight.

"It's fine," Claire tried to shrug it off. "I just need to walk it off."

"It's broken, Claire."

"Only a little," she argued. "C'mon, we're going to lose the others." She frowned, though, as she noticed that Gavin was cradling her ankle in his hands, murmuring under his breath. "Gavin?" She noticed his grip increase slightly as what looked like a tremble went through his body. Claire's eyes widened. "Gavin, you're scaring me."

"I'm okay," he replied quietly, taking a deep breath and looking up at her. He almost looked pained, as though whatever he'd just been doing had hurt him, but he smiled. After a moment of awkward silence, he slid her shoe back on, standing. "There," he said, leaning forward and kissing Claire's forehead. "Try standing now."

Hesitantly, Claire did so, shocked to find all pain and discomfort from her injury gone. "Gavin, that was amazing! How did you . . ." when she realized, though, she frowned, looking up at him. She lowered her voice. "You're not supposed to use magic. So you don't end up like . . ."

"For you, it's worth it," Gavin replied, laying his hand on her hair for a moment. Claire turned bright red, and Gavin gave a weak smile. "C'mon. Now we can catch up with the others."

The others weren't too far ahead, pausing every time Fergus rose his head into the air or growled. The ghosts drifting around the building didn't seem interested in coming anywhere near a hellhound, so the spirits kept their distance, though they could still feel a pair of angry cold eyes on them, watching and waiting. When Gavin and Claire caught up, they found the others watching as Fergus scratched at the bottom of a wall.

Ben squatted down, running his hands over the wall. "I think it's a crawl space," he said, getting enough light from the flashlights to find the latch. The door swung open slightly, and Ben swept his flashlight back and forth. "Probably used for storage back in the day, but usually there was some sort of drain leading outside. Might be our ticket outta here."

"A bit of a drop, but it's our best chance." Gavin frowned, looking around. "Who's the smallest?"

Sara huffed as she instantly felt several pairs of eyes on her and Alex. They looked at each other, trying to decide who should go without having to argue about it. Alex held out her fist, and Sara did the same. On three, they both threw – Alex threw scissors, and Sara threw paper. Sara cursed. "Fine!" she scoffed, pulling her hair into a ponytail to keep the cobwebs out of it. Ben took her forearms and helped lower her down as far as he could; then she dropped the extra few feet, and looked around nervously.

"It smells down here!" she complained.

"Do you see anything?" Gavin called.

"No, nothing – wait, yes! I see something metal up ahead! It could be the drain." She pulled her coat around her closer. "I'm going in for a closer look."

"Be careful," Gavin called, and Sara began her trek across the musty space. She could clearly see the drain now – it was small, but she could probably work her way through it. She frowned as her flashlight flickered, plunging her into darkness, and she tripped over something.

"Sara?" Ben called.

"I'm fine," she called back, sitting up and rubbing her sore buttocks. "I just tripped over something." She hit her flashlight a few times, and the beam of light reappeared, exposing what it was Sara had tripped over – a decomposed corpse. She stifled a scream, gasping and dropping her flashlight as she scrambled backwards.

"Sara?!" Ben called again. Sara scrambled to pick up her flashlight only for it to land to yet another cadaver, this one much older looking.

"Oh, God," Sara whispered, noticing another body, and another behind it. There were several, all throughout the crawl space, some older than others, but all equally disturbing.

She could hear footsteps behind her as Alex and Claire lowered themselves into the crawl space, running towards her. Alex slid to a stop, eyes wide, and Claire looked disgusted.

"Well," Claire called, holding her shirt over her nose. "I think we just found the missing trespassers."

"Get it on film – get it on film!" Harry was hissing, scrambling into the crawl space with Ed, rushing to capture the scene on camera. Harry's eyes were wide. "Oh my God. This is huge. We're gonna be _huge_. _Discovery channel_ huge!"

With a gust of air, the door of the crawlspace slammed. Spinning around, the girls rushed back, standing below where they'd been lowered in.

"Gavin?" Claire called.

"It won't open!" came his reply, straining to yank the door open. They could her Ben and the other Ghostfacers desperately trying to pull the door open, and Sara looked around in a panic as she saw the ghost of Gene Marko angrily flickering, coming towards them. Weapons back in the room with the boys and at their last resort, Sara stood up. She blinked, her eyes turning crimson.

"Don't come any closer," she warned.

Marko slowed, obviously hesitant at the power play. Spirits were powerful on their own, but demons? Most forces didn't reckon with them.

When he took a few more cautious steps, Sara charged the air around them with a thick layer of forceful power. The flashlights went out, plunging them into darkness as the bulbs exploded. Sara herself could still see, and when Marko took a tentative step towards her, she lashed out. Darkness radiated from her as it engulfed the spirit, pulling at his power and energy, and Sara wondered briefly if she were able to kill someone who was already dead. Marko, picking his battles, disappeared, severing his connection with Sara.

Sara sighed heavily after a few moments of silent tension, blood roaring in her ears from the added power. Her eyes returned to normal as she faced the others. "I can only keep him at bay for so long," she told them. She raised her voice. "Gavin, Ben – find a way out! Fergus can help you. I've weakened the ghost for a bit but you'll have to act fast!"

"Find Marko's grave, burn the body," Alex added.

"Take the cast of _Ghost Whisperer_ with you!" Claire added. "Five people digging is faster than two!"

"We'll be back, I promise!" Gavin swore. Their retreating footsteps could be heard as they made their way down the hall.

"We're gonna die," Harry whispered, on the verge of hysterics. "We're gonna die in a crawl space. Christ, I feel like a Gacy victim."

"Is that in bad taste?" Sara frowned.

"Who cares?!" Harry demanded. "We're gonna die!"

"We're not, so long as you shut up," Claire snapped. "Now be quiet; I hear something."

"He's behind us," Alex whispered. "I can see him – barely. He's too scared to come closer."

"For now," Sara whispered. She held out her hands, closing her eyes. "Is he still watching, Alex?"

"Yes."

"Alright." Sara took a deep breath. " _Ignium_ ," she murmured, and flames leapt to life in her hands. Marko's spirit disappeared with an angry snarl, and Sara smiled down at the small fire cradled in her palms. Ed gave out a girlish scream and Harry scrambled backwards.

"You're getting good at that," Alex remarked as Sara laid the small fire between them; it was just enough to give them some light and warmth, and so long as its creator was nearby, it would stay ignited. Sara looked pleased at Alex's compliment.

"Thanks," she said, warming her hands. "I've been practicing. Have you tried it?"

"Few times," Alex shrugged. "I could never get past a few sparks. Claire tried it but she almost burned down the bunker." Claire shrugged, poking the fire with a small twig.

Harry and Ed were clutching each other, watching the girls in horror. "Who _are_ you?" Ed demanded.

The girls looked at each other, amused.

"It's a long story," Alex finally said.

As they waited for several long moments in silence, Sara occasionally listening closely to something, or sometimes her eyes turning red briefly, time seemed to slow down. It felt like hours since they'd sent the others out, but in reality it had been less than a half an hour. Desperate for someone to say something – anything – Claire glanced at Alex.

"You still haven't told us how things went with your dad," she reminded her foster sister. Alex held her knees against her chest, staring into the fire.

"She's right," Sara admitted. "You just said 'good' and that was it. What happened?"

Alex took a deep breath, staring off into space. She smiled a little. "It was . . . great. Yeah. Great."

"Really?" Sara asked, relief evident on her face. Alex nodded.

"He was ecstatic to see me," she admitted. "He never gave up hope, and said that . . . that he knew I'd come back to him. He's a doctor now. He has a nice wife, and stepsons. I have a little sister."

"Alex, that's wonderful," Sara said, laying a hand on her sister's arm.

"Yeah, for real," Claire said, scooting closer. "Did you tell him about . . . you know?"

"No," Alex said, shaking her head. "I told him that I can't remember what happened to me. That things are blurred until Jody. I think he knows there's more to it but he's not pushing. He and Jody talked on the phone last night. He's really grateful to her. Kept trying to repay her somehow. I – I told him that I was going to continue to live with Jody, and he was okay with that. He's planning on visiting a lot."

"I'm so happy for you," Sara said, and she genuinely was. "You've got your family back."

"I've got my real family right here," Alex replied, linking hands with Claire and Sara. "You guys are the ones I can come to with – well, with everything. Even crazy stuff."

"No secrets in this clique," Claire grinned, and Sara suddenly felt very guilty.

She swallowed. _It's now or never_ , she told herself. _You're either going to suffocate in here and die a liar, or you can just tell the truth now and rip it off like a band aid._

"You guys," Sara said, staring at the fire. "I have to tell you something."

Alex and Claire looked at each other, hesitant; had they known something like this was coming? Sara pushed the thought to the back of her mind as she continued. "I helped Kelly Kline get away from Castiel." As she said the words, the burden of the lie was lifted off her chest, but replaced with a heavy sense of guilt. She dared not look her sisters in the eye for fear of what they'd say. She prepared for the worst, which is why she was so surprised when Alex squeezed her hand.

Alex and Claire glanced at each other again. "We know," Claire finally admitted, and Sara was taken aback, eyes wide as she looked from Alex to Claire.

"You know . . . how?"

"Because it's what we would have done," Alex said. "We don't blame you, Sara."

"Really," Claire promised. "We would have done the same thing."

Sara felt hot tears prick at her eyes; she blinked them away quickly, trying to keep her composure. This whole time, they knew – they weren't angry at what she'd done, or that she'd lied. They were still the same supportive people they'd always been. The same ones that had taken Sara in and treated her as an equal, as a friend.

Sara hesitated. _You're already on the roll now._

"There's . . . something else," she began weakly. Now, Alex and Claire did frown, moving in closer as they had no idea what else there possibly could be. Even Ed and Harry were invested, leaning closer and listening intently.

Sara bit her lip. "I've sorta been in charge of Hell for a while."

"What?" Claire demanded.

"You've been in charge of –?" Alex started, trying to comprehend.

"Like, _Hell_ , Hell?" Claire asked, eyebrows arched. "Hot and steamy, full of bad guys and demons? _That_ Hell?"

"How long is a while?" Alex demanded, and Sara hesitated at the bombardment of questions.

"Um . . . since Asa's funeral."

"That long?!"

"You're crazy," Ed said faintly, unable to comprehend the situation. "You're all crazy. This is crazy. _I'm_ crazy. Is this even real? Is this real life?!"

"Ed!" Harry shook him. "Snap out of it! Freak out later."

"He's right; we need to concentrate on what we're going to do," Alex said, glancing at her watch. Every minute that went by was minute too long, and she was starting to worry about the boys. "Sara, can you . . . do that thing," she said, glancing at the already freaked out Ed before looking back to Sara. "To get out of here?"

"No," Sara said, shaking her head. "If I leave there's nothing from keeping our ghost friend from coming back for you guys." She glanced towards the drain, standing. Her eyesight adjusted as she moved farther into the dark, finding the drain and giving it a tug. It gave in easy enough, but Sara sighed and stood again, returning to her friends.

"Drain's a bust," she said, sitting back down. "Even if we could all fit through it, it's so packed with dirt and rocks it would take ages to dig out."

"So what are we gonna do?" Ed demanded, though it came out as more of a squeak.

Sara shrugged. "Wait. And hope the boys don't run into any trouble."

* * *

The boys ran into _all_ the trouble.

Getting out of the asylum was easy enough, with Marko distracted and weakened and Fergus's strong claws to tear through a weakened piece of plywood that had been used to patch a hole in one of the walls. But once they were out, Maggie, AJ, and Travis cowering behind Gavin and Ben, they had to actually find Marko's grave.

"Alright," Gavin said, turning to them and leaning his gun on his shoulder. "We'll split up. Ben and I will search the cemetery for the grave. You three, go to my truck; it's parked round front. There are some shovels in the cab. Chances are good you'll find some more in Claire's car – it's the blue Chevelle."

"You want us to go out there?" Maggie demanded. "By ourselves? There's a maniac killer ghost out there!"

"Sorry, did you want to be the one looking for the maniac killer ghost's grave?" Ben asked. "I'm sure he'd be thrilled to find someone looking to desecrate his resting place."

Maggie was quiet, and AJ whispered, "Shovels are fine."

Gavin nodded, glancing at the hell hound at their heels. "Fergus, go with them," he ordered, and the hound reluctantly complied, following the huddled little group as they headed for the front of the hospital.

"Hope they come back," Ben mentioned.

"They don't have any other choice," Gavin said, swinging something around on his finger. Ben grinned when he realized it was the keys to the Ghostfacers van.

"Alright, I'll go North, you go South," Gavin said, reloading his shotgun with salt. Ben grunted in response and started towards the other side of the cemetery, swinging his flashlight back and forth. He wondered how many thousands of people who died here didn't get a grave – kinda sucked, when thinking about it. To live in a hospital and then die, no one caring enough to even give you a grave. _No one cares when you're crazy, though,_ he supposed. He remembered the way his mother was treated when she started having her episodes; her friends stopped hanging out with her, and her coworkers whispered about her behind her back. The only person who would listen was her psychiatrist, and even he didn't have any explanation for the holes in her memories, or why a certain scent of sound was cause her to break down into tears, or why she was suddenly so paranoid, checking the locks repeatedly in one night and not going to sleep until all the alarms were set.

Seeing the way his mother was treated was the reason Ben kept his own problems to himself. Something was missing from his brain, he was sure of it. Hobbies he didn't remember picking up and stories that didn't have an origin. He passed the occasional night terror off as eating too much crap food before bed.

Though, they didn't explain why he'd started having the nightmare again.

It was always the same one, but things were blurred and slow almost like he was underwater. In his dream he was just a kid. He'd get flashes; people in suits, he thought. Trying to jump out his window. Then someplace dark. His heart was racing, but he wasn't scared. Someone was there with him that made him feel safe, though Ben had no idea who it was, or what they looked like, or even how they sounded. But then something would happen – something to his mom, and there would be blood, and screaming, and then a bright white light.

That's where Ben always woke up. That bright flash of light, and an annoying sense of déjà vu.

He was pulled from his thoughts as he approached a tiny little grave, with an angel etched onto it. He could see something gleaming white behind it; as he approached, his heart sped up as he realized it was a little girl, dressed in a hospital gown and clutching a teddy bear. Ben stopped moving as she stared at him. She blinked, non-threateningly, before glancing behind Ben.

Ben didn't have to turn around to know who was coming across the cemetery. He quickly ducked behind a large headstone, holding his breath as Marko's heavy footsteps came closer. The little girl looked at Ben, and he wondered if she'd give away his hiding space. He started to cock his sawed off, but the little girl raised her finger to her lips, shushing Ben. Frowning, Ben watched her dart out from behind her grave stone, running towards and then past Marko towards the front of the hospital. Marko watched her, before frowning and following after, unwilling to let any of the patients leave their resting place.

When he was far enough away, Ben released the breath he'd been holding and pushed himself to his feet. He made sure the spirits were gone, and began to continue his search when he heard Gavin calling from somewhere across the graveyard.

Ben caught up with him, out of breath from jogging and dodging around gravestones. Gavin was standing by a short, secluded stone.

"Did you find it?" Ben huffed, bending over to catch his breath.

"Aye," Gavin agreed, removing his jacket. "And just in time," he added, watching the group of flashlights coming across the cemetery, Fergus in the lead.

There had been plenty of shovels for each of them, and they'd brought along a can of gasoline they'd found as well. As they began to dig, Gavin and Ben took turns guarding the others – no doubt Marko would know what was going on. Gavin leaned against the gravestone, gun loaded and safety off. He watched the graveyard wearily, occasionally catching an orb of light floating by or seeing something move out of the corner of his eye.

"I hope these spirits are freed when Marko goes," he said. "I'll eat my boot before I spend the night digging up each and every one of these graves."

"Still better than calculus homework," Ben grunted, heaving a shovel full of dirt out of the hole.

"Why'd you follow the girls here, Ben?" Gavin asked curiously, scratching at his stubble. "Entirely noble intentions, I take it?"

"Mostly I just wanted to see what it was all about," Ben replied, taking a break and leaning against his shovel. "Been reading about this sorta stuff for years. Meeting the girls made it all the more interesting." He shrugged, continuing to dig. "I dunno, man. Just felt like something was missing from my life, is all."

"And that something wouldn't happen to be my sister, would it?"

Again, Ben shrugged. "Ya never know," he replied. "But in all honesty . . ." he exhaled heavily as he threw a large rock out of the pit. "She's miles outta my league and ten times smarter. All of them are. But she's got a lot of the world figured out already. She's kinda the whole package. She's funny, she's brilliant, she could beat the hell outta me . . ." he grinned, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "And _damn_ , she's hot."

"Oi, watch it," Gavin warned.

"What? You're pretty too," Ben retorted.

"I think I've found something," Travis said, and Ben hit the ground with his shovel. Hearing a hollow echo, he helped the others out of the hole. Ben scuffed some dirt aside, finding the casket, and Gavin handed him a crowbar.

Ben jammed the crowbar under the lid, and started pulling.

"Hurry it up, lad, something's happening," Gavin warned, readying his weapon as the air crackled with static energy.

"Workin' on it," Ben grumbled, pulling harder.

Maggie cried out in surprise and Gavin spun around towards her; Marko knocked him back with a backhanded smack. AJ and Travis were screaming, Maggie was stunned, and Fergus was growling and trying to snap at Marko, who kept appearing and reappearing to keep the hound off his trail.

"Ben!" Gavin warned, attempting to scramble to his feet and grab his gun; Marko picked the weapon up and tossed it away, but Gavin was able to disarm Marko as well. Angry, the ghost grabbed Gavin by the neck and began swinging him around like a ragdoll, slamming him against a tree. Marko put both his massive hands around Gavin's neck, squeezing. "Today, Ben!" Gavin choked, struggling to get free.

"What, you in a hurry or something?" Ben called, finally jimmying the coffin open and scrambling out of the hole. He doused the body in the gasoline, tossing a heavy coating of salt after it, and struggled to get the matches out. Fergus, meanwhile, had sunk his teeth into Marko's ass, and was attempting to tear it from the ghost as Gavin attempted to kick the spirit away. Travis and AJ were screaming and running around in circles. It was like something out of a carnival, if carnivals had hell hounds and ghosts and took place in a graveyard behind a haunted asylum.

Ben cursed as he struck several matches against the side of the matchbox repeatedly, becoming frustrated when none would light. "Where did you get these matches?" he demanded, still trying to light them.

"They're – ugh! – they're great value brand, they were on sale!" Gavin defended his matchstick choices, still trying to get free.

"Who the hell buys great value matches?!" Ben finally got one lit, and could have cheered in victory. He looked up at the massive spirit. "Hey, ugly!"

Marko turned, eyes widening with fear as he realized what was happening. Ben grinned, dropping the match. "Yippy-ki-yay mother–"

The rest of his words were drowned out as the gasoline soaked body was engulfed in a whoosh of flames. Marko looked horrified, and angry. He dropped Gavin, grabbing Fergus by the scruff and throwing him several feet away. Then Marko turned and charged at Ben.

Ben raised his gun, preparing for a fight, when Marko suddenly caught fire. He looked down at himself as he began to burn away, screaming as he fell to his knees and disintegrated into a pile of soot and ash.

Ben helped Gavin up, the older boy limping slightly as they moved towards the grave, watching it burn. Gavin looked at Ben, raising an eyebrow. " _Die Hard_? Really?"

"Shut up, it was awesome," Ben replied without looking away from his handiwork. Fergus was shaking himself off a few feet away. Travis and AJ were helping Maggie up, and the girl looked around nervously.

"Guys . . . look," she said.

Ben and Gavin turned, watching as dozens of ghosts appeared, all looking around, some in awe, some in fear. The little girl Ben had seen earlier appeared not far from him. She smiled and waved, and Ben smiled back, giving her a little wave with a nod as the spirits began to look upwards, shifting from translucent figures of their former selves to wisps of light that disappeared into the sky, heaven bound. Gavin and Ben watched with slight smiles on their faces before Ben gave an exhale of relief, leaning down and picking up his sawed off. "Guess we'd better go let the girls out, huh?"

* * *

As the sun came up, everyone stood in front of the asylum. The Ghostfacers were loading up their equipment, reeling over how famous they were about to become with the amazing footage they had. Claire was packing her weapons and shovels back into the Chevelle, and Ben and Gavin were returning from reburying what was left of Marko.

"So, you guys," Harry said, looking at the girls, Gavin, and Ben and narrowing his eyes. "You guys are hunters too?"

The girls looked at each other, exchanging shrugs and awkward glances. Finally, Sara looked back at Harry. "It's complicated," was all she said.

"Right. Well, whatever it is, it makes for some great television," Harry said, and Ed agreed, nodding enthusiastically. "We're going to be _huge_."

"Remember us little people when you are," Claire said.

"We will," Harry swore, not picking up on Claire's sarcasm. She rolled her eyes as they watched the Ghostbusters load into their van and disappear down the road. The group was silent for a moment when Gavin spoke.

"How long do you reckon it'll be before they realize Alex fried their equipment and deleted the footage?"

"Two hours," Claire guessed. "Give or take."

"Well, I want to be far from here by then," Sara said, pushing herself off of the Chevelle and moving towards the passenger side door. Ben followed, and they stood close together, talking quietly. Alex and Claire grinned.

"I'm going to call Kev and make sure he made it home okay," Alex said, removing her phone from her pocket and stepping away.

"Don't take too long!" Claire called after her. "I'm starving." She pushed herself off the car, taking her car keys from her pockets. "Burgers?" she asked Gavin, and he smiled.

"Sounds great."

"Cool," Claire said, giving his foot a playful nudge with her own, ready to jump into the driver's seat and get far away. She stopped when Gavin grunted in pain in reaction to her hitting his foot, and she turned, watching him struggle to stand straight and not look pained.

Claire approached him suspiciously. "What was that?"

"It was nothing," he promised, feigning a smile. "I'll meet you down the road for food, yeah?"

Claire gave him the once over, a frown forming on her lips. "Let me see your foot."

"What? Why?" He moved away from the car, walking normally – almost normally, Claire suddenly realized. Every time he put pressure on his right ankle, his leg shook slightly. If you didn't know him as well as Claire did, it would have never been noticeable.

"Gavin," Claire said, grabbing his arm, taking him by surprise and forcing him to sit on the tailgate of his truck. She yanked up his pants leg, eyes widening slightly when she noticed the swollen, black and purple skin of his ankle. She looked up at him in shock, and he looked annoyed at getting caught.

"What did you do?" Claire demanded, standing up straight. She glanced at her own, perfectly healed foot for a moment as realization hit her, and she glared back at Gavin. "Is that – is that my broken ankle?"

"No," Gavin said, pulling his pants leg back down and standing. "It's mine. And it's fine, I've had worse."

"You know what I mean!" Claire hissed, hitting his shoulder. "When you . . . fixed mine, did you . . . how did you . . ?" She was caught off guard as Gavin took her wrist in his hand, his other hand busying itself by pushing some hair behind her ear.

"All magic has consequences," he told her, and Claire couldn't understand how he didn't look angry or annoyed. _He broke his ankle for me. Why isn't he even a little pissed off?_

"This is the second time you've used magic to help me," she replied quietly.

"It's worth it," he promised her again.

"No, it's not! Gavin, that's – you shouldn't have . . ."

"But I did," he said, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to her lips before moving towards the front of the truck. "And I don't regret it."

"You're not driving," Claire said, plucking the keys from his hand, and Gavin sighed. "You're going to the hospital, and then you're coming back to Sioux Falls and resting. Got it?"

"Claire –"

"Stay," she ordered, before going back to the others and giving Alex the keys to the Chevelle, explaining what she was doing. The girls nodded and got into the Chevelle, Ben getting into his car as well. Claire returned to the truck as the other cars disappeared down the road, and Gavin shook his head at his girlfriend's bossiness as he complied and got into the passenger seat. Claire was clearly conflicted in how to feel – angry because he had hurt himself for her, or grateful because he loved her so much to do so – and turned the radio up to avoid talking about her feelings. Gavin hid a smirk as he glanced out the window, wondering how he'd gotten lucky enough to stumble across a girl like Claire Novak.


	26. Chapter 26

**Um . . . Hi.**

 **I know, I know. A year. I totally abandoned this for a year. I abandoned a lot of things, unfortunately.**

 **But I'm trying.**

 **I'm trying to pick up the pieces of where I've left off and work to create something better. I thought my writing days were over for a long time. It just wasn't going anywhere and I felt like a failure. Then, your messages and reviews came flooding in, and I knew it wasn't over, it was just dormant. I woke it up and started working again - for you guys, and for myself.**

 **Thanks for having faith in me when I didn't have faith in me.**

 **This is for you.**

* * *

Claire finished a text message before laying her phone on the nightstand beside the bed. She rested her head on the pillow, staring off into space as her thoughts drifted to Castiel. She worried when he didn't get in touch with her often – but Gavin had seen him yesterday, so Claire was reassured the angel was fine. Still, he seemed almost lost without the Winchesters, and was obviously exhausted. Last time they'd seen each other, Claire had almost begged him to get some rest – either at the bunker or at Jody's, she didn't care so long as he relaxed – but he'd simply given her a brief, weak smile and promised to relax once Sam and Dean were back, safe and sound. Claire couldn't understand how Cas could be so stubborn.

But then, who was she to talk?

All thoughts of Castiel left Claire – or at least, pushed themselves to the back of her mind – as Gavin's arm, which had been thrown over Claire's torso, pulled her closer. Claire rolled over, and Gavin's hand rested lazily on the small of her back. He looked at her through sleepy eyes, giving a slight smile.

"Still awake?" he asked.

"Just texting Jody," Claire replied, gently touching his bruised face. "I told her I'm with Cas. She gets that I'm an adult and everything but she's still, y'know." She rolled her eyes and shrugged. "A mom."

"Mm." Gavin pulled her closer, moving his hand from the bare skin of her back to her hair, where he gently twirled some of the blonde curls in his fingers. Claire laid against his arm, watching his tired face and feeling blissful for a moment. It hadn't been a particularly romantic night, what with Gavin's busted ankle – now situated in a heavy cast – and the tender bruises and cuts along his face, but they'd made the required gentleness work to their advantage and now laid in comfort with each other. The motel was warm and dry, a welcome shelter from rain and prying eyes for a while.

Claire could feel Gavin staring at her, and she looked at up, frowning. He grinned, and her frown deepened. "What?" she demanded, and he shook his head.

"Just admiring you," he admitted.

"I'm already in bed with you, no need to lay it on so thick," Claire rolled her eyes, and Gavin laughed.

"Really," he insisted. "You're just so perfect. So pure and beautiful and everything I've ever needed. I love you."

Claire flushed bright red, and rolled over so that she was practically on top of him. She pressed a gentle kiss on his lips, careful not to irritate the sore cut that was a direct result of Arthur Ketch's fist.

"I _hate_ when you say stuff like that," Claire grumbled against him.

He chuckled. "Why?"

"Because I never know how to respond."

Gavin laughed, wrapping his arms around her tightly and pulling her back in for another kiss, deeper this time, more intimate. Claire was going to protest – she was ninety percent Gavin hadn't slept in three days, and he certainly wasn't going to be getting any sleep this way – but the feeling of his warm lips against hers forced her to relent, and she sank into the embrace.

Gavin huffed in annoyance as his phone vibrated on the table beside the bed. He reluctantly pulled away from Claire, recognizing the ringtone, and cleared his throat.

"Munroe, FBI," he answered gruffly in an American accent, sitting up a bit. Claire leaned back against the pillows, propping herself up as Gavin ran a hand over his face. "Chambers? Yeah, he's one of ours. Needs to what – listen son, I don't know how you do it in Smalltown USA, but this is the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Know what we do? No? We investigate. So if one of my men says he needs a couple of goats and a tractor, you need to do your best to accommodate. Or do I need to send a few more boys down there?" he listened for a moment, before looking satisfied. "That's what I thought. Enjoy your night." He hung up, immediately dialing another number. He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "Donald, mate, I understand the goats but what the hell is the tractor for? The cops are asking questions." He frowned at the explanation, but then looked surprised. "Huh. When you put it that way . . . Right, just keep an eye on the locals then."

He hung up, looking perplexed, and Claire arched an eyebrow.

"Chupacabras," Gavin explained. "A whole nest of them, down in New Mexico." He hesitated. "Maybe I should go give him a hand."

"Or maybe," Claire said, reaching out and taking his wrist as he started to move from the bed. She stared up into his eyes, her wide blue ones meeting his dark, tired ones. "You stay here, and let yourself heal. With me."

His face softened, and he relented, laying back in bed. Claire snuggled up against him, laying her head on his chest, and he played in her hair, stroking the soft locks between his fingers. They lay there, quietly, for a long while. The only noise was their soft breathing in rhythm, and Gavin's heartbeat under Claire's ear.

"Do you remember the first time we met?" Claire asked softly.

"Yes," Gavin said darkly. "And I try not to think of it too often, truth be told." He remembered every second of that night; he'd arrived at Singers Auto Yard hoping to find its namesake, who he understood was very good at finding people – in particular, demons – only to find the place burned to the ground, seemingly years ago. Disappointed, he'd started to leave when he heard the most horrific, blood curdling scream he'd ever heard. He'd grabbed his gun and run across the Salvage Yard, to come across a young woman being tortured by, unbeknownst to Gavin at the time, Lucifer himself.

He could still hear Claire's screams echoing in his ears.

"It was one of the worst nights of my life," Claire admitted, shuddering at the memory of Lucifer's cold hands locked around her soul. "But you know what I remember the most? Not the pain or the fear or any of that. I remember opening my eyes and seeing your face."

Gavin closed his eyes, tilting his head to press a kiss against her temple.

"And I remember thinking," Claire continued, "'Wow. I am _totally_ gonna get with that later.'"

Gavin burst out laughing, and Claire grinned too, enjoying the sound she so rarely heard.

After a moment, he sobered, settling back down and linking his free hand with hers.

"And you made me work for it, too," Claire reminded him.

"Aye," he agreed, sighing. "I didn't want to get involved with you. You were my sister's best friend, and had already been through so much, and you're so young –"

"Five years is not that big of a gap," she rolled her eyes.

"But," he continued, arching an eyebrow at her disapprovingly for interrupting. "At the end of the day . . . I couldn't stay away. There's something about you that's . . . pure. You're clean, Claire."

Claire snorted. "Yeah, right," she rolled her eyes.

"You are," he argued, brow furrowing. "I grew up in poverty, and hatred. Mum didn't want me. Da was . . . well, he was something completely different back then. My hardships made me bitter and closed off. But you . . . you've faced so much, and you just keep going. You love so easily, and you love so _hard_ , and it's just . . . you're everything I'm not," he said quietly, and she had moved to stare into his eyes as he spoke. "And everything I love." He raised her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently. "After I arrived here, in this time, I was so concerned with finding my place. A home. But I was looking in all the wrong places. Then I found you, and I knew – I was home."

"Gavin," Claire whispered, hating herself for the growing wetness of her eyes. The tender words touched her heart like nothing ever had, and she swallowed painfully. Gavin looked concerned.

"Have I upset you?"

Claire reposed by laying her hands on his face and kissing him, lovingly, gently, before pulling away slightly and laying her forehead against his.

"I love you," she whispered.

"And I you," he swore, stroking her hair. "Forever. I promise."

She snuggled back against him, closing her eyes and relaxing against his gentle breathing. "Tell me about it," she said. "Where you're from."

"There isn't much to tell," he frowned. "It's as I said . . . My mother left when I was very young and it only made my father more hateful. He'd been abandoned his whole life. His mother, his wife . . . I reckon one of the reasons he never got close to me was because he was afraid I'd do the same." He lifted his shoulder in a fraction of a shrug. "So he stayed at the bars and I went about my business. I had to learn to protect myself and do what I could to get by. I didn't have the patience for farming or the head for business, so while the other boys learned trade skills and agriculture, I learned how to read . . . among other things," he said hesitantly, and Claire knew he must be referring to magic. "I worked at the docks when I could and made enough to scrape by."

"Did you have any friends?" Claire asked. "People you cared about?"

"Not many," he admitted. "I was friends with a couple of other . . . well, outcasts I suppose you could call them. Thomas was my best mate, we worked the docks together. His parents both died, his father at sea and his mother of pox. He was raised by the church, and was smaller than most. Then, there was Fiona . . ."

He trailed off, staring off into the distance. The name hung in the air with a tinge of sorrow.

"I'm guessing you two were more than friends," Claire said quietly.

"Fiona was kind to me, even as a boy," he began. "And kindness was something I'd never known. It made me fall in love with her, and aye, I suppose she loved me too." He was quiet for a moment. "I did some research, when I came here. Tracked back some family trees. She married Thomas. They had a family and lived a long time."

"I'm sorry," Claire said softly.

"Me too," Gavin sighed. "Sorry that I didn't get to see them grow old, or play with their children. Sorry I'll never know what could have been – what should have been." He pulled her closer into a gentle embrace. "But now," he said, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. "I'm here. And I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

* * *

Sara examined the contents of the bookshelf, running her fingers along the bindings of various books and documents. They were in no particular order, and some were hastily put away and very well worn. Most of the books were on various types of lore and theories on the supernatural world. Some were old car magazines, and there were a few comic books that looked like they'd been neglected since childhood. A model car sat on top of the shelf, alongside a picture of a young Ben being hugged by his mom.

Ben's room wasn't what Sara had expected. It was small and certainly not neat, but not dirty. On the small desk against the wall there was a laptop, along with some untouched textbooks beside it. There was a tool box in the corner of the room, and a pair of work boots beside it. Finally, on a stand by the twin bed, there was a record player. Underneath it was a bin full of records – mostly rock bands, especially ACDC and Zeppelin. Sara smiled, unsure if she was reminded more of Claire or Dean.

Thinking of Dean gave her a rather sullen feeling. It had been over a month since he and Sam had been arrested, and no one had heard a thing. Sara knew better than to ask her father for help – if the Winchesters were in jail, they were also out of his hair. But Castiel was putting his heart and soul into trying to find them, and Sara felt so helpless.

"Hope sparkling water is okay," Ben said as he reentered the room, two bottles in his hands. "Mom doesn't keep soda in the house."

"It's perfect," Sara smiled, taking a bottle. "Your room is . . . interesting."

"Everything's still kind of a mess from the move," Ben admitted, sitting on the edge of the bed. Sara sat beside him, sipping her water. "We never stay in one place very long, so I don't like to get comfortable."

"Do you think you'll stay in Sioux Falls a while?" Sara asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

"So long as I don't get expelled again, yeah," Ben nodded, and Sara was instantly relieved. Ben grinned. "Why?" he asked, bumping his shoulder against hers. "Am I growing on you?"

"Hardly," she rolled her eyes, leaning against him slightly in return. "I just want to make sure you're not causing trouble elsewhere."

"Oh, I can cause all sorts of trouble right here," he winked, and Sara grinned, giggling as he wrapped his hands around her hips and turning her head right before his mouth could reach hers. Grumbling, he nuzzled against her neck for a moment before Sara relented and turned to meet his lips with her own. She laid her hand on his arm as he gently captured her mouth with his, tilting her head to fit against him more evenly. Heart racing, Sara took a moment to enjoy the bliss that was kissing Ben Braeden, before pressing her hands against his chest and pushing him away gently.

"We're _supposed_ to be doing homework," he murmured against his lips.

"Baby, I could study you all day," he grinned, and Sara rolled her eyes and hit his shoulder. He grinned as he pulled away, that charming little smirk he always used so well, and Sara tried to ignore his eyes on her as she opened her satchel and pulled out her calculus book. Ben huffed, but opened his too – probably for the first time, Sara thought. They sat across from each other, sitting cross legged as they began to work on their assigned problems.

After just a few minutes, Ben ran a hand through his hair, sighing in annoyance. He'd completed three problems, and snuck a glance at Sara's homework. He raised his eyebrows to see she was way ahead of him.

"How'd you get so good at calculus?" he asked, trying to balance his pencil on the end of his nose.

Sara grinned, watching his efforts as she leaned back. "My dad's really good at math," she admitted. "I was horrid at it, too, but he made it easy to understand."

"He a good teacher?"

"Not especially, but he is rather intimidating," Sara continued, snatching the pencil off his nose and attempting to balance it on her own.

Ben grinned. "Does your intimidating demon dad know you're hanging around with a punk like me?"

"It hasn't really come up," Sara admitted. The pencil fell off her face. "To be honest, I haven't seen much of him lately," she continued, twirling the pencil in her hand nervously. "Ever since Lucifer was put back in the box, Dad's been busy. I'm not sure with what. I thought maybe he was just getting back to work, but Roland says they don't see much of him, either. They say he's always disappearing."

"So you're still the big cheese for now?"

Sara snorted. "I wouldn't say that. I give Roland and Camille a lot of free rein. I just get called in for the big stuff."

"Like what?"

Sara continued to fidget with the pencil, embarrassed about the conversation. "Just . . . you know, the bad ones. Pedophiles. Serial killers. A few terrorists . . ." she shoved some hair behind her ear, red faced. "Can we change the subject?"

"Well," Ben said, stretching. "This homework is really bringing me down." He arched an eyebrow. "My mom isn't going to be home for a while. Wanna get _really_ crazy?"

Sara narrowed her eyes, suspicious, but also intrigued. "What did you have in mind?"

Twenty minutes later, Sara examined the situation in front of her, biting her lower lip in concentration. Ben watched with a careful eye, trying to read her expression. Every few moments Sara would tilt her head this way or that, trying to perfectly analyze her next move.

Finally, she reached out, trying to keep her hand from trembling as she made her move.

The tower of blocks collapsed and Ben clapped, throwing his arms in the air. "Jenga!" he yelled, fist pumping and laughing as Sara glared, trying not to laugh.

"Rematch!" she demanded, reaching for the blocks.

Ben grinned. "Nah, I'm tired of beating you. Let's do something else."

"What, like the homework we were supposed to finish an hour ago?" she rolled her eyes.

"We could do that," Ben shrugged innocently, leaning forward. "Or we could do something that doesn't make me want to put a gun in my mouth."

"If you don't do your homework they won't unsuspend you," Sara said, fighting a grin as she also leaned forward.

"Only one reason to go back to school, and I've already got her in my bedroom," he teased lightly with a shrug.

"Mm. Who's going to be my knight in shining armor if you're not there?"

"I've seen you take down a dude twice your size and rip a door outta the wall. If anything I think you're _my_ knight in shining armor."

"You make a pretty lame damsel in distress," Sara replied.

"I'll have to try harder," he said, moving to brush his lips against hers.

Sara jumped, startled, as her phone started to ring. Blinking rapidly and flushing, she pulled away, glancing at it. "It's Roland," she said apologetically. She stood, walking towards the window. "What's up?" she answered.

"Just checking in," the demon's deep voice rumbled. The sound of screaming could be heard in the background, as well as something that sounded like flesh tearing. Sara pushed the image out of her head.

"Bad timing," Sara said, leaning against the bookshelf and looking out the window. Ben's bedroom overlooked a little patch of woods, and the leaves were changing into brilliant shades of red and yellow. "But it's fine. Everything alright there?"

"Things are calming down. Chasing down Lucifer's lackies is tiring work," he added bitterly. "And there's no shortage of them. Your father is doing his best but the place is still a mess. Camille said you had a solid plan for the Lucifer loyalists?"

"Uhm . . ." Sara glanced behind her. Ben seemed distracted cleaning up Jenga, but she still lowered her voice. "I was worried about the security risk so I placed them in the northern-most hall adjacent to Limbo."

"Who's on guard?"

"I didn't want to spare any of your men standing guard," Sara said, rubbing her arm. "So I gave the order for some Daeva to be summoned. That way they can patrol the halls while everyone else works on the Lucifer problem."

"Good idea. Also lets us keep an eye on any spies on the inside, too."

Sara nodded, then remembered he couldn't see her. "Great. So . . . are you sure you guys can't spring the boys?"

She had to wait another fifteen seconds for Roland to get over his laughter at the question. Sara sighed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, I thought you'd say something like that," she sighed.

"They'll be fine. It'll do them good to have a time out. I'd better get back." There was more screaming, and the sound of metal through flesh. "Busy day."

Sara suppressed another sigh, hanging up, and turned back to Ben. He glanced at her. "Everything cool?" he asked as she sat back down.

Sara nodded. "I'm glad that my dad is back," she said earnestly. "Running Hell . . . really not the career path I had in mind."

"No?" Ben looked amused. "What did you have in mind?"

Sara bit her lip, thinking about it. "I don't really know," she admitted after a moment with a weak smile. "I've never really had time to sit down and think about it. Something in social work or law, maybe." She shrugged sheepishly. "What about you?"

"I've always wanted to be an ice road trucker," he said with a straight face.

Sara giggled, and his stony expression cracked as well and he grinned.

"Dunno," he shook his head. "Mom wants me to go to college, but . . . nah, that's just not for me. Might go to trade school. I'd be alright at fixing cars, probably."

"You and Claire have more in common every day," Sara grinned, and Ben rolled his eyes and feigned disgust. Sara smiled absentmindedly, unable to put her finger on why it looked so familiar when he did that. She fidgeted with her necklace absentmindedly.

Ben nodded at it. "You wear that all the time," he mentioned, pulling Sara from her thoughts. "What's it mean?"

Sara glanced down at the trinket, the small, intricate symbol that hung on a gold chain. She ran her fingers over it. "I got it when I was still trying to hide from Lucifer. It's a shielding symbol. It keeps the wearer hidden from angels, demons . . ." She hesitated. "I guess I don't need it anymore. That's . . . kind of exciting." She lifted her hands to unclasp the hook, removing it from around her neck. She examined it in her hand for a moment before holding it out towards Ben.

He raised his eyebrows. "What, seriously? You sure?"

"I don't need it anymore," Sara repeated. "With Lucifer gone, I can protect myself from everything else. But it'll keep you safe. The rest of my family has some sort of protection. Now you do, too." She leaned forward, putting it around his neck. He laid his hand over it for a moment, the metal still warm from her skin. He lifted his hand to stroke some of her hair.

"Sara, listen," he started, and she could feel her face turning pink at his touch and his gentle tone. "I just want to tell you . . . these past few weeks with you have been . . . ah, hell. What I'm trying to say is I didn't come to Sioux Falls expecting anything other than the same shit there always is. But then I met you and . . . God, I'm glad I did."

Sara was steadily turning redder by the second. Her heart was racing, and her stomach was filled with butterflies. "I feel the same way," she said, her voice scarcely more than a whisper.

"I want to . . . I mean, if _you_ want to . . . dammit, how come I can't do this?" he ran a hand through his hair. "I want you to be with me. Like, a thing, or whatever. Look, I don't know what I'm doing, I've never actually seriously asked anyone, so –"

She silenced him by leaning forward and pressing her lips against his gently. He was taken by surprise, but closed his eyes, laying his hand on the back of her neck and stroking her hair. After a moment, she pulled away, smiling.

Ben smirked. "So, is that a yes?"

He laughed as Sara gently punched his arm, falling backwards. The door downstairs opened, and they could hear the rustling of grocery bags.

"Ben?" Lisa called.

"One sec!" he called back, standing and offering his hand, pulling Sara up. He led the way down to the kitchen, where Lisa had her back turned to them, putting groceries away.

"Hey," Ben said as he entered the kitchen.

"Hey," Lisa said, standing on her toes to put away some cans. "I'm thinking pasta for dinner tonight. Or would you rather have roast?"

"Both sound great, mom," Ben assured her. He cleared his throat. "You, uh, remember Sara, right?"

Lisa turned, looking shocked. "Oh!" she said, blinking. "I didn't realize – yes, of course. I'm sorry, I'm just not use to Ben bringing anyone home." She smiled warmly. "Ben says you've been helping him in school."

"Well, I try," Sara joked, and Lisa laughed.

"That's all anyone can do, trust me," she assured her. "Would you like to stay for dinner, Sara?"

"That would be lovely," she replied, and Ben looked sheepish but was also grinning. He grabbed an apple from a bowl on the counter, taking a bite and sitting on the table. "Is there anything I can help with?" Sara continued.

"Sure," Lisa said, looking pleased. "Would you mind chopping some vegetables for a salad?"

"Absolutely," Sara said, moving towards the counter. The three of them spent the rest of the evening cooking and chatting. Lisa was setting up her own yoga studio in town, and had been busy getting everything ready to open. Sara noticed the large box of flyers advertising the studio on them, and offered to hand some out around the school. Lisa seemed to be pleased by this, and agreed.

After dinner, Sara offered to help wash up, but Lisa waved her off.

"You've done plenty," she replied, casting her eyes on Ben, who was pulling his jacket on. Lisa looked back at Sara. "Trust me."

"I'll be back after I drop Sara off," Ben said, grabbing his keys off the counter.

"Take your time," Lisa said, and Ben raised his eyebrows.

"Am I not grounded anymore?" he asked.

"For Sara, I think I can make an exception. Please, come back anytime," Lisa continued, smiling at Sara. "It's wonderful having you around."

Sara smiled back. "Dinner was lovely," she earnestly. "Thank you."

"You kids have fun!" Lisa called as Ben helped Sara with her coat, waving. Sara smiled up at Ben as they walked to his car, pulling her coat closer around her as the cold fall air blew her hair in all directions.

"Your mum is great," she said.

"Yeah, I know it," Ben agreed, sliding into the car and starting the engine. He cranked the heat up, glancing at Sara. "She must _really_ like you to unground me. I think she thought I was hopeless."

"Never brought a girl home?" Sara teased as Ben started driving towards Jody's.

"None as respectable as you," Ben retorted, and Sara rolled her eyes and scoffed. Ben smirked and shrugged. "Nah, she's not used to me having any friends really. I mean I hang out with people but I never really considered them friends. Well, except for Jonah back in Milwaukee. But that kid needed a friend."

"I'd love to meet him sometime."

"Baby, he'd take one look at you and have an asthma attack," Ben chuckled, and Sara blushed. Ben glanced at her, grinning. "I love when you turn red like that," he said, tugging one of her curls gently.

Sara shoved some hair behind of her ears, turning redder still at him pointing it out. "It's your fault," she reminded him.

It was almost dark when they reached Jody's house, and Sara was surprised when she saw Jody leaning against her truck, hands shoved in her pockets and talking to Crowley. They glanced in the direction of the Impala as it pulled to a stop behind him. Sara scrambled out of the car, bounding towards them.

"Dad!" she exclaimed with pleasant surprise, throwing her arms around him. He caught her enthusiastic embrace, giving her a gentle hug and pressing a kiss to her temple. Sara pulled away a bit, looking at him. "I've been worried about you," she scolded him, frowning. "Is everything alright? Are you okay?"

"Never better," Crowley replied, though something in his eyes told Sara that wasn't the complete truth. "Roland said he spoke with you earlier and I thought it best to come check in with you. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she replied. "Really," she insisted at his raised eyebrow. Crowley glanced away, however, as Ben got out of the car. He narrowed his eyes. "Who's that?"

Sara glanced behind her, smiling as Ben came to stand beside her.

"Dad, this is Ben," Sara said, slightly nervous.

"Hey," Ben gave a nod.

Crowley glared at him for a moment before turning to Sara. "The last boy you introduced me to left you to die," he said bluntly.

Sara flushed in embarrassment, and Jody rolled her eyes.

"Ben is the one that saved me from that horrid man," Sara said defensively.

"Alright; I'm going to let you three settle this amongst yourselves," Jody said, holding up her hands. "Civilly," she added with a pointed glance at Crowley. "I need to go put some wood on the fire." She started to walk away, hissing " _Play nice_!" as she passed Crowley.

Crowley was looking at Ben with an odd look on his face; a mixture between resentment and something Sara couldn't quite place. She frowned, standing there awkwardly as Ben looked at Crowley with a similar look.

"So," Ben started boldly. "King of Hell. Big job."

"It pays the bills," Crowley said shortly. "Where did you say you were from again – Ben, was it?"

Ben arched an eyebrow. "Been a little bit of everywhere. But originally? Cicero. Indiana."

"I see."

"Ever been?"

"No. Can't say that I have."

"I don't blame you. It sucks."

They continued the stare at each other for several long moments, and Sara hesitated. The air felt almost electric with tension, and she bit her lip, unsure of what to say.

"Y'know, you look real familiar," Ben said, narrowing his eyes. "We ever met before?"

"No," Crowley said quickly. "I'm certain I would have remembered."

"Yeah. Me too." Ben still looked suspicious, but finally jerked his gaze away from the demon, focusing on Sara. "I'd better get going."

"Yeah, of course," Sara said, walking him back to the car. She frowned as she watched his expression; he looked as though he were concentrating, and also very frustrated, as though he was trying to think of something in particular.

"Hey," Sara said, touching his arm, and he looked down at her. She frowned, staring into his green eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Sure," he said, blinking a few times. "Just . . . I dunno, I feel weird all of the sudden. Like there's something I'm forgetting to do or . . ." He shook his head, taking a deep breath. "Forget it. Probably just too much calculus on the brain."

"Hey," Sara said again, leaning against the car door and tilting her head, smiling. "Call me later?"

Ben smiled back, worry momentarily forgotten as his eyes fell on her smiling face. "For sure," he said, giving her hand a quick squeeze before getting into his car. Sara watched him leave, waving as his taillights disappeared from view, and turned back to her father.

"Could have been a bit more polite," she teased, walking back towards him. "I know he seems a bit rude at first, but really he's just a little shy. He's really not a people person and I think he gets rather flustered the first time he meets people, but once you get to know him –"

"Sara, I don't want you seeing that boy anymore."

Sara shut her mouth, blinking and staring at him for a moment in surprise. "What?" she said quietly.

"I don't think he's someone you should spend your time with." Her father looked oddly cold, and his tone was firm. "He's not what you think he is. You should try to move on before you get hurt."

"Hurt?" that was exactly what Sara was feeling at that moment at her father's harsh words. Her brow furrowed, her frowned deepened as she shook her head. "Ben would never hurt me, he – he cares about me. And I . . . I care about him to."

"Sara –"

"No," she said, staring at the ground for a moment. She finally mustered the courage to look him in the eyes; he looked surprised, and none to pleased, at the defiance in her tone. She shook her head. "No, you always give these vague, cryptic excuses. This time I'm not having it. What's your real problem with Ben?"

"Because I don't trust him," Crowley continued, tone growing adamant. "He's trouble, and you _will not_ be involved with someone like that. You are absolutely not to see him again. I'm not doing this to hurt you, Sara, I'm just trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" Sara demanded, his confusion turning to anger. "Protect me from what? From the person who risked his life for me?"

"Sara," he started again.

"No!" she exclaimed again, stronger, and her father looked taken aback. "Ben is a good person, a genuinely _good_ human being who accepts me the way I am. He took all of this – all of this insanity in my life – in stride, and I won't let you keep me from someone like that."

"I'm only thinking of what's best for you –"

"Best for me?" Sara scoffed. "You weren't even around for seventeen years. The only person who knows what's 'best for me', is me." She shook her head, trying to keep her anger in check – though, the snow that had begun to fall moments before was starting to swirl around angrily. "You know, the whole 'I know what's best for you because I'm smarter and more powerful than everyone' crap might've worked on mum, but it won't work on me. You're not being protective. You're being possessive." She turned quickly, trying to keep the hot, angry tears that were welling her eyes hidden as she walked away from him.

"Sara," he called, but she forced herself to keep walking, jogging up the porch steps and through the front door. Jody noticed her hurt expression and put her arm around her. By the time she glanced back outside, Crowley was gone.


End file.
